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DIRECTOR NATIONAL INTELLIGENCE
MCLEAN, VIRGINIA
06:10 THURSDAY 13 MARCH
Bryce Gilmore took a thoughtful pull of his Marlboro. He had started smoking them when he was twelve. Come to Marlboro country—to where the flavor is.
The brand fit with his self-image; rugged, self-reliant, taming the West despite the fact that he had gained thirteen pounds over the past year and his chin was beginning to sag. He set down the intelligence report on the South China Sea and picked up the morning copy of the Wall Street Journal.
He tapped the ash from his cigarette and turned the pages of the paper scanning each one in turn. The marketplace was not what held his interest this morning even though he owned several million dollars- worth of stock.
His search stopped on page A-6. The article he searched for: an insignificant four-inch double column. He uttered a grunt of satisfaction when he finished reading.
There were no changes or additions from the draft he had approved for release. Truth be told, he wouldn’t have objected if The Journal had seen fit to add some of their own analysis. That piece of inadvertent obfuscation would have added another layer of legitimacy to the activation of Blue Horizon.
The story read:
‘Yesterday a new startup joined the ranks of offshore oil and natural gas exploration ventures intent on meeting the world’s increasing demand for petroleum products. Horizon Offshore Exploration [HOE] based out of Houston will not be listed on the NYSE or the NASDEC and there are no immediate plans for an initial public offering. Hoping to exploit the potential of undeveloped fields ringing the South China Sea, a company spokesman for HOE announced the company would soon join with PetroVietnam to begin exploratory drilling in the Con Son Basin’s White Tiger Field. An extension of the Sunda Shelf landmass that was above sea level at the peak of the Ice Age, the basin is reported to have huge deposits of crude oil.
Engineers have said Vietnam has also renewed drilling in the Wan Bei-21 block in the Blue Dragon field approximately 200 miles off the tip of southern Vietnam. PetroVietnam’s
General Director said—’
“Morning, Bryce. Did you see it?” Gilmore’s Deputy Director, Ralph Cox, asked as he strode into the room.
Gilmore waved him toward an upholstered chair. “Just now.”
“For better or worse, we’re in the oil business.” Cox replied eyeing the cigarette with disapproval.
Gilmore relented and snuffed out the butt. He knew the rules on smoking in Federal office buildings. He viewed them as just another bureaucratic irritant. It’s none of their damned business if I want to kill myself.
“At the moment, I’m not exactly feeling like a tycoon. Coffee?”
“Thanks,” Cox replied wondering if all ex-field agents had this self-destructive streak.
Cox poured himself a cup from the carafe on the side table hoping Gilmore hadn’t brewed it. He took a tentative sip and settled in the chair. “We haven’t seen a reaction from Beijing yet––”
“They don’t have much to go on. The PLA sent a couple of reconnaissance flights over Platform Four, so they know it’s been reactivated.”
“They’re going to be pissed with HOE and PetroVietnam for setting up shop in their backyard.”
“Tough shit.”
“You’ll get no argument from me,” Cox said.
Gilmore peered over the top of his glasses. “We’re going to have to stay alert for Beijing’s counter moves.”
“Understood.”
“So, where are we?”
“Right on target. The Director of Operations has the A team working this one. The roughnecks they recruited are a real rogue’s gallery. I’ve seen some pictures. They look like a bunch of damn pirates. Tattoos, earrings, hair down to their shoulders.”
“Salt of the earth.”
“Last I heard they were pumping 9,000 barrels a day. That represents most of Hanoi’s production.”
“I thought it was a dry well.”
“Surprised everyone.”
“What’s it costing?”
“The Vietnamese estimate it’s going to run near three-hundred and fifty million annually. Hanoi is providing the bulk. We’ve guaranteed their development loan through HOE.”
“We’re covering a good percentage of our long-term outlay.”
“It’s probable the projected startup costs will run less than expected if you sign off on the team’s new recommendations.”
Gilmore pressed his back against his chair. He didn’t like surprises. “And those are?”
“The major piece is modifying Platform Ten instead of new construction.”
“How’d they come to that decision?”
“Revisited their plan.”
“You’ve seen it?”
“They ran the strawman by me a couple of days ago.”
“Can I sign off on the product?”
“They’ll have the final draft to me this afternoon. I’ve got the team penciled in on your schedule day after tomorrow.”
“Is BLUE HORIZON in this morning’s brief book? I don’t want to tell the President one thing, then have to change my story.”
“No, but it’s possible it could come up.”
“Give me the short version.”
“In the original agreement, the Vietnamese were to lease exploration blocks 121 and 123 to HOE for joint development. Our plan was to build a new rig in 123 and set up our surveillance team. The specifics of this agreement weren’t released, and as far as we know, Beijing has no knowledge. The tricky part, 123 overlaps zones claimed by the PRC. This is bound to touch a nerve since the Chinese National Offshore Oil Corporation leased these same areas to an American company, Lakeland Energy Corporation.”
“Where the hell did they come from?”
“They have a corporate office in Denver.”
“Where’s the linkage?”
“We’ve traced Lakeland’s affiliation to a Hong Kong listed company, China National Offshore Oil, Ltd. That’s the State-run parent of CNOOC. The kicker...”
Gilmore shifted in his chair. He didn’t like to play ‘Guess What I’m Thinking.’
“This week, our China analysts came across a transcript posted on the Foreign Ministry’s website detailing Beijing’s position on their claims in the South China Sea. What got our attention was a statement saying they would protect Lakeland’s activities by force if their interests were threatened.”
“They’re serious?”
“It’s credible.”
Gilmore reached for his package of Marlboros, then pulled his hand back. “You’re telling me we could get drawn into a war between China and Vietnam over the activities of some damn American company?”
“I wouldn’t dismiss the possibility. Beijing can position itself to cover their actions by appearing to protect the interests of an American company.”
“I don’t think I’d care to try to explain the logic of this to the President.”
“For openers, I’d explain Beijing’s intent is to box us in and limit our options to interfere. Of course, there’s also a reasonable explanation for going with a U.S. firm.”
“I don’t want to go there. Did we know any of this when I signed off on Blue Horizon?”
“No. Lakeland kept their negotiations with CNOOC secret until they signed their agreement.”
“What about Commerce? They were sure as hell all over us when we were setting up our venture with PetroVietnam. And what about the Caspian Sea negotiations with Yukos Oil? Lakeland had to jump through the same hoops to get their deal blessed, didn’t they?”
“We’re checking.”
“Lakeland’s a shell for a Trojan horse?”
“Unknown.”
“We have to do better. Does Lakeland have any big donors tied to Commerce?”
“We—”
“Don’t answer that. Just give me the final report. We’ll have to sort this out later. Anything solid on Lakeland?”
“We’re infiltrating one of our people.”
“I’m thinking we should exert a little gentle persuasion on Lakeland and convince them to take their business elsewhere.”
“I’ll look into it.”
“Be discreet. We can’t get caught snooping around a domestic company. We’ll have to coordinate our investigation with the FBI if you come up with anything suspicious.”
“It must be great to be king.”
“Not even close, so don’t feed me that crap. I get enough from our friends in Congress.”
“More flack on the re-org?”
“Yeah. Endless, but give me the rest.”
“Beijing was edgy enough before Manila stirred the pot. Now they’ve been put on guard by a new rig PetroVietnam constructed in the Thanh Long —”
“The Blue Dragon oil field?”
“It’s a platform some two-hundred miles southeast of Vung Tau scheduled to tap into the producing strata by May.”
“How’s this fit?”
“I’ve brought a map.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. You don’t pay me enough.”
“I’ll take that under consideration.”
Cox spread out the map on Gilmore’s desk. “This is the general area we’re talking about. CNOOC granted drilling rights to Lakeland to the same block.”
“I see.”
“This is another rig that caught our analyst's attention. It’s what prompted us to reconsider our plan. This platform wasn’t even on the table when we began our negotiations with the Vietnamese. Construction began years ago in collaboration with the Russians. When Moscow pulled out, Hanoi opened the area to foreign bidders. Even Mobile sunk several test wells.”
“Lord, don’t tell me they’re involved?”
“No, thank God. It appears PetroVietnam decided to go it alone.”
“This could escalate,” Gilmore said.
“Exactly.”
Gilmore ran his finger over the chart. “This will put us just to the west of the Lakeland concession. Hasn’t Hanoi put together a multinational consortium to develop a natural gas field in the same area?”
“They have. British Petroleum has the lead for a two-billion-dollar project that includes building a pipeline connecting the field to a power plant at the Phu My Industrial Center.”
Gilmore sorted through the implications. “What’s Beijing saying?”
“They’re raising hell and putting the squeeze on BP. They’re saying the project constitutes an infringement on China’s sovereignty.”
“I don’t want our guys caught in the middle.”
Cox brushed his hand across his chin.
Gilmore recognized his deputy’s mannerism. “What’s on your mind?”
“Before the VietSovPetro joint venture dissolved, PetroVietnam and the Soviet company, Nestro, built ten drilling platforms in the Bach Ho oil field. It’s our recommendation HOE take sole possession of Platform Ten and plant the flag. We can then team up with Hanoi and draw our line in the sand.”
“Why Ten?”
“Our engineers tell us it’s in the best structural shape. Its design is such that it can readily be retrofitted to meet our needs.”
“How close to the Chinese will this place us?”
“Seventy-five miles from the Kan Ton-III exploration vessel. CNOOC just deployed the ship to sink test wells.”
Gilmore looked at the map. “Damn.”
“Yeah, the rig is almost equidistant between Da Nang and Hainan. You can see why everyone is so spun up.”
“Both of them appear to have valid claims if you take into consideration the two-hundred-mile EEZ.”
“Possession is nine-tenths of the law. I’d say a real horse-race is developing.”
“So it seems.”
“We’ll need to maintain the appearance of an oil-producing platform to secure our cover.”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
“That was my question. The easiest solution would be to reactivate the drilling and after an appropriate amount of time, announce a dry well. We can then move everybody off the rig but our guys. We’re checking with the geologists to see if that scenario would have validity with CNOOC’s engineers. Fortunately for us, but not the Vietnamese, there has been a notable lack of output from the majority of wells in the Con Son basin. With the exception of Platform Four, most haven’t even covered their development costs.”
“You’re telling me I shouldn’t invest any of my retirement fund over there?” Gilmore said looking to wrap up the conversation.
“You’d find better odds in the gold market. Without forcing the metaphor, the silver lining in all of this is, we’ll save millions and be able to stand up our operation months earlier if we use Platform Ten.”
“Passes the reasonable man test.”
“There’s something else.”
Gilmore checked the time. “I don’t need to point out that the more convoluted this becomes, the greater the risk of something spinning out of control.”
“Acknowledged, so you’re not going to like this piece.”
“I’m already sitting. Go ahead.”
“Hanoi has obtained a line of credit with Tokyo.”
“So?”
“They want to lease several of their offshore fields to the Japan Offshore Petroleum Exploration Corporation. Hedging their bets.”
“I wanted the short version.”
“It’s convoluted.”
“No doubt. I’ll have to take a scrubbed version to the NSC. Get State and Defense in the loop. That said, it’d be the President’s call.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What else?”
“The National Reconnaissance Office spotted a Chinese cable-laying ship in the South China Sea. The PLA’s expanding their network of sub-ocean fiber optic cables to harden communications between their various installations in the South China Sea with their command center on Hainan.”
“Can we tap it?”
“DIA’s exploring the idea. The NGA has pinpointed the cable’s location. Matched it with Impeccible’s seabed topography before the PLA chased her off.”
“The Navy’s done it before in the Sea of Okosk. Our subs tapped the Soviet’s Northern Sea Fleet’s undersea cables off Murmansk.”
“The Parche?”
“She’s the most notable. After her decommissioning, the Jimmy Carter assumed the mission. She’s the third and last of the Seawolf class. Based out of Bangor, Washington. Her construction was delayed to allow for the installation of a one-hundred-foot hull extension aft of the sail providing naval special warfare and Intel capabilities way beyond anything previously available.”
“And those are?”
“Carter has berthing and equipment storage to support fifty SEALs and a dedicated command suite. She also has a large ocean interface storage area called a ‘Moon Well’ incorporating a wasp waist.”
“Wasp waist?”
“The cargo compartment narrows to a four-foot diameter fore-aft passageway for the crew, hence the name. What provided the step up is that the compartment can be configured for mission-specific equipment to support littoral operations.”
“What can she do for us?”
“Beyond inserting special op guys for tactical and strategic surveillance, the Navy can deploy pods capable of tapping into sub-ocean laser communication trunk lines.”
“We can’t pass this up.”
“Our guys can barely contain themselves.”
“Those Navy divers had guts. Have they asked for anything?”
“They’ve dropped a hint they want to stage from Platform Ten to run ops with their new submersible.”
“How about the Carter?”
“Nothing.”
“Any risk of blowing our cover?”
“Minimal. If the Soviets didn’t intercept our guys right outside Murmansk, I doubt the Chinese could.”
“We need to modify the platform?”
“No idea.”
“Find out.”
“Listen, boss. You gotta go. There aren’t any surprises in the briefing book. We’re right on the mark regarding the Philippine Foreign Ministry’s position on the MLSA. There’s a note on the Chinese Ministry of State Security’s activity in Manila, and some info on ABC’s resident correspondent.”
Gilmore folded Cox’s map. “Touch base with me this afternoon.”
* * *
GEORGE WASHINGTON MEMORIAL PARKWAY
06:45
Gilmore’s armored sedan turned right onto the G-W Parkway for the short trip to the White House. His security detail followed, ready to race into a blocking position if the situation warranted.
He peered out the side window at the stark outlines of the trees lining the parkway. “How’s the traffic?”
“Advance says we have clear sailing, sir. You’ll arrive with time to spare.”
The driver and escorting agent didn’t expect an answer and got none. The morning run provided Gilmore a respite from the constant onslaught of meetings, calls, and crises he faced each day.
Gilmore turned from the window and pulled the red leather binder containing the President’s Daily Brief from his attaché case. The binder’s cover read: “Director, Top Secret – Contains Codeword Material.”
He flipped to the first tabbed section that summarized the new developments in Somalia. He wrote a note to contact the French and see if the agency could get collaboration from their counterparts in Djibouti.
The next section summarized the latest information from the station chief in Manila. There’d been a significant increase in communication with the Chinese ambassador following the Clarke visit.
Manila appeared to be considering rapprochement with Beijing and had taken under review several proposals submitted by the Chinese. His analysts felt Beijing’s proposals represented the initial moves to woo the Philippines into their sphere of influence.
The PRC was implementing a number of political and economic measures that would be difficult for Manila to ignore. The proposals were structured to guarantee certain territorial claims by Manila and to strengthen the position of the Philippines within ASEAN. If implemented, they would upset the balance of power in the Pacific.
Gilmore wondered where Montalvo fit. The report suggested all of the activity was emanating from the Foreign Ministry, not Malacanang Palace. And what about the military? He couldn’t imagine they’d have a hand in this. Any scenario implicating the AFP’s acquiescence couldn’t be taken seriously.
He swayed in his seat as the sedan turned onto the Roosevelt Bridge. They would be at the White House in minutes. He pulled out his iPad and jotted down a cryptic ‘to do’ list.
(1) validate/collaborate
(2) intelligence/analysis
(3) Montalvo visit
(4) mtg with Richard
(5) BH
(6) NSC presentation
(7) WHY??
Gilmore stared at number seven. What forces were at play that would so alter the allegiance of a long-term ally? Have they been cowed by their confrontation with the PLA? Were they using this opportunity to position the Philippines to benefit from the changing dynamics in the South China Sea? Or were they looking to wrestle concessions from the United States?
He picked up the secure telephone and selected a number from autodialing.
“Cox.”
“Ralph? Bryce. I just went over the Station Chief’s report. We need a better handle on the Foreign Minister’s agenda.”
“You think Cruz’s positioning to replace Montalvo?”
“What do we know?”
“For starters, there are elements within the DFA and a few influential Senators who will block any agreement that would open the door for a renewed American military presence.”
“We have anything on the Ministry of State Security?”
“They have someone in the DFA on their payroll. We’re chasing the leads.”
“What about the military?” Gilmore asked.
“The senior leadership is in our camp. The National Police appear to be aligning with the generals. Public statements issued by a Presidential spokesman have been noncommittal. Our source confirms Montalvo remains on the fence. At this point, there isn’t an immediate threat.”
“I don’t agree. What happens if the Lincoln Strike Group gets sucked into another confrontation with the PLA?”
“Shit.”
Cox’s reaction elicited a chuckle from Gilmore. “Well, that’s a succinct summary of my thoughts. In any event, that falls into Richard’s and Sheldon’s court. We’ll let them sort it out.”
“I’m thinking it’s time for us to spin up our contacts in Hanoi and Manila. Get the hard data and set up our counter-moves in case this thing spins out of control.”
Gilmore replaced the receiver, picked up the iPad, and typed: (8) counter moves.
With Montalvo’s visit to Washington two weeks away, he began to formulate a plan. He set the foundation with the essential question: Who is this insider and what can we do to neutralize him?
Gilmore’s sedan came to a stop at the White House’s security gate. He glanced out the window, noting a cluster of people milling around a satellite feed van. He studied their faces while he waited for the guards complete their checks.
He placed another call to Cox. “We’ve got an ABC van. Any idea what going on?”
“No.”
The security guard waved them through. “Have a good morning, Mr. Gilmore.”
The news team passed out of sight as his car passed through the gate and pulled into an empty stall. His secure phone rang.
“Gilmore.”
“We’ve got something hot,” Cox said.
“Anything to do with that van?”
“Yeah, they’re about to break the story on the P-8 incident.”
“Any surprises?”
“Don’t appear to be any.”
“Wonder what took them so long? Do we know their source?”
“A reporter in Manila.”
“Got a name?”
“Lynne. First name, Marie. She was the lead on the series detailing the rescue of the Philippine fishing boat.”
“Her background material was deeper than anything we had. We have anything on her source?”
“She’s not about to divulge, but our resident agent suspects someone in the Foreign Ministry.”
“Our mystery man?”
“Could be.”
“It’s time to find out more about Ms. Lynne.”
“I’ll notify the embassy.”
“Stop by this afternoon.”
Gilmore terminated the call and added another bullet to his list:
(9) Marie Lynne