WEDNESDAY morning it was still raining. His head was stuffy, and as usual before any kind of trial or hearing, he hadn’t gotten much sleep. He and Blair seemed to be getting along better, though. Dinner at a Thai restaurant in Georgetown the night before had helped. They’d talked about fallbacks. Hers, if her run for Congress didn’t pan out. His, if the hearing went badly. They’d agreed to sell the house in town and move to Maryland. She’d go back to work until something opened up in the next administration, then try to get a position for him, too. Meanwhile, they could build up the exchequer a little.
But right now his head felt like it was going to explode. His neck and upper spine hurt from the old injuries. He dry-bolted three Aleves. Shaved. Got his uniform together. Checked the clock again. Still early.
Suddenly he remembered: if it was seven here, it was noon back in the east Med. He’d meant to call for the last two days, but kept missing the window.
Sitting on the commode in the bathroom, he hit the number. Rather to his surprise, Cheryl Staurulakis answered on the second ring. “Hey, Exec,” he said, keeping his voice low, as if calling a mistress. “It’s me.”
“Captain. That you? Where are you? Sound pretty faint.”
“Long as you can hear me. I’m in DC. Where are you guys?”
“Lucky you caught me, I’m out on the bridge wing. We just got under way.”
He could hear the wind blowing, the whine of the turbines. Under way, without him … He cleared his throat. “All the repairs done?”
“Repairs and rearm complete, Tiger Team offloaded, and everybody got one night’s Cinderella liberty. And get this, everybody’s back aboard.”
“Even the Troll? And Rit Carpenter?”
“Even Carpenter. Yes sir.” She chuckled, about the first time he’d ever heard her laugh aloud. “I had him escorted. Buddy system.”
“Probably wise. Um, how’s everything going with the interim guy?” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say “CO” or “skipper.”
“Captain Racker? He’s great. A real charmer. Seems to have a lot of pull with the logisticians. We got every part we needed, and Hermelinda ordered a truckload. Building up depth, in case we get caught short again.”
Dan grimaced. He’d wanted to hear they were all right, but not that his replacement was hot stuff. “Uh-huh. So, where we headed now?”
Staurulakis’s voice became guarded, official. “We’re on a cell, Captain. I can’t pass operational details.”
He thought of asking for a hint, but dismissed that. “Uh, all right, I understand.”
A tap at the door. Blair’s voice. “Who’re you talking to in there?”
“Just on the phone. Sorry,” he called.
Staurulakis asked, all but overlaid by the blustering wind: “Are you coming back to us, Captain? Will they let you return?”
“Um, I’ll have to get back to you on that,” he murmured, and shortly thereafter, ended the call.
* * *
“WANT me to drive?” Blair was examining herself in a full-length mirror. She’d come out of the bedroom in a gray belted jacket and a skirt with pleats and black heels. Hair brushed back, and already made up. He’d never understood how she could do full makeup in less time than it took him to shave. In the morning light he noted crow’s-feet starting around her eyes, the faint, sad signs of passing time. Her hair was swept to one side, to cover the withered, reddened bud of her reconstructed ear.
“Yeah, that’d be nice. Uh—thanks for appearing with me.”
She came up close and fiddled with his ribbons. Flicked something off his lapel. “I’m not with you. That wouldn’t be smart for either of us, Dan. We’ll go in separately. I’ll be third row back in the audience.” She gave him a peck on the cheek and an air hug. “But I’ll be rooting for you. Good luck. I mean that. What we were talking about last night?”
“Yeah?”
“That was worst case. I hope they give you your cruiser back. I really do. But after that, we’ve got to have that serious talk you keep promising me.”
As she drove him in along Lee Highway he paged through the briefing cards from the murder board the day before. The general and his assistant, both retired marines, had set up the scene at the hearing, led him through the opening formalities, and helped him prepare a brief statement. Then they’d cross-examined him like not one but two bad cops. He’d come out sopping with sweat, but with these points memorized:
1. Don’t say anything unless they ask you.
2. Don’t argue back if they start pontificating for the cameras.
3. Don’t show off.
4. Don’t make news.
5. Don’t advocate anything different from what the Navy’s currently doing.
6. Don’t act as if you know how the hearing will turn out.
“But above all, once you’ve answered the question, shut up,” the general had said. “Just answer what they ask, in the simplest terms possible. Demonstrate knowledge of the issues, act happy to explain so they understand too, but don’t get lost down in the weeds. Especially, beware of yes-or-no questions. They’re usually setups, to make you look like an idiot. How does a fish get caught?”
“Um … what’s that?” Dan had asked with a frown.
“He opens his mouth. Old Russian proverb. The longer yours stays open, the better the chance you’ll come out with something asinine. Especially, Nick says, in your case. And he apparently has plans, or he wouldn’t be going to the trouble of asking me to prep you. So write that on your hand if you have to. Let’s hear it again.”
“How does a fish get caught?” hissed the major.
“He opens his mouth,” Dan muttered. Clenching his teeth, he visualized them laced shut with stainless wire.
* * *
THE Intelligence, Emerging Threats and Capabilities Subcommittee met in the Sam Rayburn House Office Building. He’d been in this marble mausoleum before, during a hearing on Tomahawk appropriations. But it didn’t feel welcoming. More than one military officer had torn his bottom out on these reefs. There wasn’t really any visitor parking, but Blair had called in a favor from someone on the Armed Services staff, and they had a space for the day in the parking garage.
But first the car had to be searched. Standing there watching the cops wand its trunk, Dan wondered how many millions of man-hours the 9/11 terrorists had cost the taxpayer. He marveled at how thoroughly a few fanatics had transformed an America that had prided itself on its openness, its trust.
Blair pulled through and found the space, in a corner. They were headed for the elevator when a Hungarian-accented voice echoed. “Mr. Lenson.”
Dan turned. Three civilians were strolling toward them between the concrete pillars. “Dr. Szerenci,” he said.
His old professor was in a gray suit and a pale blue tie, with the American flag pin in the lapel that had become de rigueur for every right-thinking official, as if to dispel any doubts. His hair had platinumed at the temples; aside from that, he looked as he had in Defense Analysis class at George Washington. Hawklike. Intent. And short. He also wore glasses now—retro, intellectual-looking horn-rims. The men with him stopped several steps back, gazes roving the garage. Szerenci inclined his head to Blair. “Ms. Titus. Good to see you again. Understand you’re running this fall? You’re here in support of your husband?”
“Hello, Ed. Nice to see you, too.” Her tone was cool. “I’m just here as a spouse. Dan can stand up for himself.”
“Of course.” Szerenci turned to him. “Sorry we had to meet like this.” They shook hands. “Congratulations, by the way, on winning the Medal.”
Dan never knew what to say to this. The Medal of Honor wasn’t “won,” but awarded, usually because you’d died performing some heroic act. Or, if not, by all rights should have. In his case, several other people had, and he wore it for them. But it felt graceless to correct a well-wisher, and explaining came across as either evasive or falsely modest. So he just nodded awkwardly. “Bravo Zulu to you, too, Doctor. National security adviser, huh? That’s really something.”
“Come on, Dan. Make it Ed. Actually, you should have seen the other names being considered. The president made the only smart choice.”
Dan glanced toward the elevator, feeling surreal here in the dusty echoing labyrinth. Szerenci smiled at Blair and pressed the Call button. One of his escorts stepped into the elevator, looked around, stepped out. Szerenci turned to Blair again, as if debating asking her to step aside, but she slid past. “You can take the next one,” she told them, and pressed the Close button. “Dan, good luck. See you upstairs.” She blew a kiss off the back of her fist as the doors began to seal.
But the steel tip of Szerenci’s umbrella shot out, and they opened again. “I have no secrets,” he said casually.
The car was large enough that his security team could board too. They took positions at either side of the door and faced it, backs to their principal, expressionless visages dimly reflected in the stainless wall.
Szerenci took off his glasses and polished them with a handkerchief. “First, if there’s any help I can offer today, please turn to me, Dan. Blair and I are on opposite sides of the aisle, but you and I, we’re both executive branch. In fact, if you have no objection, I’d like to sit with you while you testify.”
Dan gave him a quizzical side-glance. What was going on? But having a high figure in the current administration in his corner couldn’t hurt. “I appreciate that … Ed. Thanks.”
“This subcommittee usually oversees counterterrorism initiatives, and works to prevent proliferation of weapons of mass destruction. I’m not sure what they have in mind calling you. But I wanted to lend what support I could.” He lowered his voice, though his words were already almost lost in the hum of the elevator motors. “For old times’ sake. And because, as the CO of Savo Island, you’ll be in the front line of any conflict. Frankly, we need an immediate, crash upgrade to our antiballistic capabilities.”
Dan frowned down at him. “I’m hearing—around the building—that we’re looking at an increase in tension. In the Pacific.”
Szerenci shook his head in wonder. “Increase in tension—is that what they’re calling it? We’re on the brink of war. Outside capital’s fleeing the country. But I believe we’re ready.”
Dan looked at the ceiling. It was stainless too, and a blurred image of himself peered back down. First Niles, now Szerenci, and even more direly phrased. “War, huh? I’ve seen some of it, since we were at George Washington. It’s not like the mutual-attrition equations you taught us.”
Szerenci cocked his head, gaze sharp. “Force is always the ultimate arbiter. ‘Only the dead have seen the end of war.’”
“No argument there, sir. And I respect the need for intellectual rigor. But some conflicts are different. Not so-called limited intervention, when we can pull out when we’ve had enough. We fight China, it’ll be like World War I.”
“Your illusions are almost amusing,” Szerenci said coldly. “But very well, let’s take your example. If not for that conflict, Germany would dominate the world. As it was, Britain and France waited too long.”
“Germany chose that war. Not the Allies.”
Szerenci waved a hand tiredly. “Who chooses a war? That’s like saying you choose to lose a poker hand. There’s always risk in the great-power game. We have no choice but to play.”
The elevator came to a stop on the main floor. But instead of letting the doors open, Szerenci put that umbrella tip on the Close button. And held it there.
Blair said, “Imperial Germany could’ve been incorporated into a world trade system. If the situation had been handled better, not just from the point of view of each threatened nation. Isn’t that what we should be doing with China?”
Szerenci snorted. “What have we been doing, since Nixon? But they’ve got to want to be integrated. Instead, the more powerful they get, the bigger their ambitions. And now this new guy—”
“General Zhang,” said Dan.
“Yeah, another Tojo—he’s whipping them up. I’m going to tell you something classified now.”
“I’m not asking for classified information.”
“You’ll understand why.” He lowered his voice still more. “Someone’s been probing us for a massive cyberattack.”
“We’ve heard something about that,” Blair said, though Dan wasn’t sure who “we” was there—SAIC, or her former compatriots at Defense, or the banking community her stepdad was so tight with.
“Have you? I’m talking about major, ongoing probes of our most sensitive systems. We’ve traced the hackers, and they’re out of the Second Department—Zhang’s old outfit.
“So here’s our reasoning, in the administration. Emotion must play no part. We look only at what the numbers tell us. Comparing growth rates, they’ll outproduce us in five to ten years. You won’t quote me on this, to anyone. But war now could be better than later, with a more powerful adversary that’s already rolled up our weaker allies.”
Dan took a deep breath. He’d forgotten how icy cold Szerenci could be. He could discuss megadeaths as if they were acey-deucey points, dissect and anticipate catastrophe and holocaust almost with relish. “Do we want to roll those dice?” he asked, trying to keep his tone neutral, as if they were back in class.
“It’s the only rational way to deal with a rising adversary that won’t comply with international rules.”
“But what’s the endgame? You can’t occupy China, the way we occupied Japan—”
The door jerked, shuddering as if desperate to open; Szererenci jabbed the Close button again. “We won’t need to. Defeat in war will trigger political change.”
Blair shook her head. “How do you figure that?”
The national security adviser smiled. “Historical precedent. Russia, 1905, 1917. Germany, 1918. Argentina, 1983.”
Dan said, “And why are you telling us? Why are you even here, Ed?”
“Because—as I said—ships like yours will be in our front line. If you look good, even if for what I might consider the wrong reasons, that helps us toward the supplemental appropriation.” He winked, and dropped his umbrella tip from the panel.
The doors whisked open, and they walked out into wide, brightly lit corridors, into a dazzling flicker of camera flashes, men and women jostling in to shout questions. Szerenci’s boys shouldered through the scrum with professional ease, until they reached the hearing room.
HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES
Committee on Armed Services
Intelligence, Emerging Threats and Capabilities Subcommittee
Washington, DC, Wednesday, June 10
The subcommittee met, pursuant to notice, at 10:00 A.M. in the Rayburn Office Building, the Honorable Beverly Maclay, chairman of the subcommittee, presiding.
MRS. MACLAY. Good morning. Today, the subcommittee will consider funding of additional increment to national antiballistic missile systems. But also, significant issues that have arisen over the proper employment of current systems, notably our mobile defensive systems, such as the ABM-capable Aegis cruisers and destroyers slated to enter the fleet in the out years of the current funding plan.
To outline the issue, I have asked Dr. Denson Hui, director, Missile Defense Agency, to address us as a backgrounder, followed by witnesses from the United States Navy, including the vice chief of naval operations, Vice Admiral Barry Nicholas Niles. Admiral Niles, good to see you here again.
ADMIRAL NILES. Likewise, ma’am. Thank you for having us.
MRS. MACLAY. I see we’re also graced with the presence of Dr. Edward Szerenci, the national security adviser. Welcome, Doctor. However, you are not testifying today, I believe.
DR. SZERENCI. I am here in support of the testimony, and to be available should you have additional questions.
Dan, Niles, and Rongstad took a long table in front of the congressmen, who were seated on a dais beneath a large seal. Niles looked taken aback by Szerenci, who bent to murmur into his ear. At last he nodded, but without enthusiasm. He pointed to a chair to Dan’s left.
As usual, at least in Dan’s experience, not all the subcommittee chairs on the dais were occupied. The subcommittee was made up of nine Republicans and eight Democrats. The chairman, Mrs. Maclay, was a moderate Republican from Kansas. Mainly because of her ready gavel, there were remarkably few partisan squabbles. She wore her gray hair in a schoolmarm bun, and spoke in a dry monotone. The others, mostly male, were in business suits, all with the same flag pin Szerenci was wearing. Dan wondered if they were issued, or if they all had to buy their own in some little kiosk in the Capitol.
The witness table was filling too, which surprised him—he’d more or less assumed he’d be on his own. But nameplates were being set out for an Asian-looking civilian in a severe gray suit and other uniformed attendees. Mostly Navy, but a few in Air Force blue and Army greens as well. When he glanced back, the rows were already filled with lieutenant commanders, majors, civilian aides. It seemed like only yesterday he’d perched back there, handing slides up to his principals as they squirmed under grillings about budget overruns, crashes, missed deadlines.
When he turned forward someone new was pushing her way onto the dais. A woman, her face not quite unfamiliar. Blond. Perhaps attractive once, but now bloated with too many Capitol Hill cocktail parties. As her blue-eyed gaze fixed on his she gave a small but unmistakable smile.
Dan sucked in his breath. He whispered to Szerenci, “Isn’t that Sandy?”
“Representative Treherne now. Seventeenth District. Tennessee.”
“That’s right. I remember.” He and Sandy Cottrell had both been students of Szerenci’s … no, Cottrell had been more than just the prof’s student … but their paths had diverged since. Hers, steadily ascendant, in both politics and an advantageous marriage, while his had bumped along the seabed. Sometimes literally. They’d met only once during the years between, at a party at the vice president’s home. “I didn’t know she was on this subcommittee.”
“She isn’t. Must be sitting in.”
The gavel fell, and the room quieted.
DR. HUI. Thank you for the chance to present the progress of our interim ballistic missile defense system. Gentlemen, ladies, unfortunately, what I am going to present really is rocket science. So I am obliged to begin with a short definition of terms.
As you know, several nations which find it in their internal interest to present us as an adversary are developing, or have developed, short- to medium-range ballistic missile systems. These are what we refer to as “theater” ballistic missiles. The intercontinental ballistic missile is treated under a different legal and technical regime. The purpose of our defensive systems is not to substitute for our offensive weapons, but to strengthen deterrence by holding off a surprise attack until we can muster our offensive capabilities—to add flexibility to the range of our military and political responses.
It is difficult to exaggerate the technical challenge. We are required to guide a warhead at seventeen thousand miles an hour, intercepting a terminal reentry vehicle—the warhead—which is also traveling at around that velocity. We’re trying to hit an object the size of a wastebasket seventy miles up, at a combined closing rate of thirty-plus thousand miles an hour. As you might imagine, this isn’t simple. A lot of subsystems have to work perfectly, within a very narrow time window—what we call the latency period.
The flight path of the enemy missile takes place in three phases. The boost phase extends from the launch pad to engine burnout, at the edge of space. This is the point at which “ballistic” flight begins. The midcourse phase extends from burnout to reentry into the atmosphere. The terminal phase follows the reentry body, the warhead, to its target.
Our current state of the art in sensors limits us to interceptions within the two latter regimes, midphase and terminal phase. Terminal phase TMD systems comprise Patriot, THAAD, and the Israeli Iron Dome. Midcourse intercept systems include Arrow and the Navy’s Aegis-based Standard system. It is this last system we are concerned with today, I understand?
MRS. MACLAY. This is correct.
DR. HUI. I will then hand off to Captain Widermann, for the Navy Missile Office.
MRS. MACLAY. Good morning, Captain. Again, let me welcome you and the other DoD members who have come here today to testify.
CAPTAIN WIDERMANN. Thank you, Madam Chairman. The Navy has been entrusted with a growing role in national strategic-level missile defense because of certain inherent advantages naval forces bring to the table. These include ready deployability and redeployability, and the independence of host-country politics the open sea grants us. In addition, it has proven relatively inexpensive to upgrade preexisting Aegis antiair capabilities, embarked in the Ticonderoga- and Burke-class warships, to provide a TBMD capability in the terminal and midphase flight regimes. Needless to say, this is upsetting to those who believe their own programs constitute a means of coercion or threat to us. I believe this is about all that is wise to say in open session on that topic.
MRS. MACLAY. That’s my cue to go into closed session, is it not? Before going further, let’s make sure the room is secure.
Dan sat back, trying not to slump while accommodating the pain in his upper spine. When the room was reported secure and the mikes were off, the hearing resumed.
MRS. MACLAY. One point we wanted to get to today is recent Navy actions in the eastern Mediterranean. Though there hasn’t been much press coverage, we’ve been briefed that two TBMs were intercepted and two were missed. Then, in a second … event, I guess you could call it, an Israeli missile was shot down and an Iranian ship was sunk. Some reports say two were sunk. Several members have called for clarification.
VICE ADMIRAL NILES. Madam Chairman, we will go as deeply into that action as this subcommittee desires. However, let me make one point first.
As you know, the Navy has a long tradition of allowing its commanding officers considerable latitude in how they fight their ships. We try not to micromanage them when they are deployed, especially in situations that require swift and decisive reactions for own-ship defense. Instead, we provide general combat guidance and rules of engagement.
The surface action against an Iranian task group falls under the ROEs for self-defense. I will venture the statement, to the extent I can speak for the Navy, that Captain Lenson, of USS Savo Island, acted properly in responding to actual weapon launch by the Iranians. In the subsequent action, although we’re still sorting out “who shot John,” the Iranian frigate took major damage and a gunboat was sunk. Once the threat was resolved, Captain Lenson took appropriate action to rescue survivors and tow the derelict frigate to a friendly port.
MR. HOLLIGER. This ship was captured by our forces, correct? Are you saying Captain Lenson then gave her back?
VICE ADMIRAL NILES. A state of war did not exist, and the Iranian authorities held that their missile launch was accidental. Thus, we had no legal right to retain the frigate as a prize. Captain Lenson kept us informed of his thinking in that regard, and we concurred in his actions.
However, to go on. Immediately prior to that engagement, Savo Island had engaged two Iraqi missiles targeted against Israel, utilizing a small loadout of experimental SM-2 Block 4 ABM rounds. She was the first ship to deploy with this nascent capability, and frankly, we did not expect much; both software and missile are still developmental.
MRS. MACLAY. So it’s your opinion that Captain Lenson’s conduct in this engagement was within the guidance the Navy had given him?
VICE ADMIRAL NILES. This indeed, ma’am, is the crux of the question. He is here with us. Perhaps it would be best to let him speak for himself.
MRS. MACLAY. Good morning, Captain Lenson. We’re glad you could be with us today to clarify your actions. I understand from my staff that you are one of the most highly decorated naval officers still on active duty. And in fact, that you hold—and I am reading from your Navy Department summary record—the Silver Star, the Navy Cross, the Navy–Marine Corps Medal, the Navy Achievement Medal, the Navy Commendation Medal, the Meritorious Service Medal, the Legion of Merit with a V, a Defense Superior Service Medal, four Armed Forces Expeditionary Medals and one Navy Expeditionary Medal, six Navy Sea Service Medals, four Purple Hearts, a POW Medal, two Overseas Service Ribbons, the Southwest Asia Service Medal with two battle stars, the Presidential Unit Citation, the National Defense Service Medal with one star, and various other ribbons, some, I note, from other countries—Indonesia, France, the Republic of Korea. I congratulate you on what has obviously been a long and no doubt stressful career.
CAPTAIN LENSON. Thank you, ma’am.
MR. LA BLANC. Is the chairwoman’s summary essentially correct, Captain?
CAPTAIN LENSON. Um, if it is from my record, probably. I would have to check before I could say it was definitive.
MR. LA BLANC. Meaning you have been decorated so much and so often you no longer are able to keep them straight. I would submit that Captain Lenson is a warrior. Unlike most who testify before this committee, who are rear-echelon figures.
MRS. MACLAY. Thank you, Mr. La Blanc. Captain, would you summarize your actions this winter, specifically those which led to your firing four antiballistic missiles?
CAPTAIN LENSON. Yes, ma’am. USS Savo Island was posted off the Levant on a defense of Israel mission. I have brought a copy of those orders for the record, if desired. They are classified. During our time on station several enhanced-range Scud-type variants knows as Al-Husayns were fired from the Western Operating Area.
On the night in question, three TBMs were fired simultaneously from the Al-Anbar area. We were cued via satellite and prepared to engage. However, I had only two missile defense rounds available at that time, due to a casualty in the after magazine. The impact point prediction for the first missile resolved to an aim point directly over Savo Island. Missiles 2 and 3 were targeted against cities in Israel. I directed that we take missiles 2 and 3 with Standard.
MR. LA BLANC. Not the first? The one that was aimed at you?
CAPTAIN LENSON. Doctrine assigned us a lower value than the defended area. This is actually pretty common, in that the mission of a cruiser, or a destroyer, is typically to defend a higher-value unit.
MR. LA BLANC. I see. Proceed, please. I take it that the first shot, aimed at you, missed.
CAPTAIN LENSON. The first reentry body, which I believe was a terminal homer, disintegrated during its reentry phase.
MRS. MACLAY. What were the results of your own two shots?
CAPTAIN LENSON. We achieved one successful intercept and one miss. The warhead we missed impacted on a shelter in Tel Aviv. I have seen media reports that upwards of two hundred people died.
MR. PARKS. Were you satisfied with that performance? Captain Widermann, I would like you to comment as well.
CAPTAIN LENSON. I was not satisfied, sir, but it was consistent with the results we had seen up to then in the test series.
CAPTAIN WIDERMANN. Sir, Captain Lenson’s statement is basically accurate. The Block 4 is not yet in the production phase. He was issued developmental rounds and beta software in order to respond to an emergent operational necessity at the strategic level. Given the limited resources devoted to the program thus far, I would say we were lucky to get the results he did.
MRS. MACLAY. I see. Then two days later …
CAPTAIN LENSON. Two days later, more or less, we received intel that a retaliatory launch was being planned. This was to be an Israeli launch of their Jericho missile against Baghdad. We followed this very closely.
MR. LA BLANC. Did you seek guidance as to how to react?
CAPTAIN LENSON. Yes sir. Via naval channels, and also directly from the West Wing via a civilian White House staffer who was aboard, a Mr. Adam Ammermann.
MR. PARKS. Was such guidance forthcoming?
CAPTAIN LENSON. Not in a timely enough fashion to guide my actions.
MRS. MACLAY. Let’s go back to this civilian staffer. What was his function aboard your ship?
CAPTAIN LENSON. He informed us his mission was liaison with the administration.
MRS. MACLAY. Doctor, was this one of your people? This sounds very irregular.
DR. SZERENCI. Mr. Ammermann is not attached to my office. He is, or was, I understand, a junior-level staffer in the Office of Public Liaison. I am not aware of any orders to him through my office, which stands separate.
Dan ran his gaze along the row of faces above him. Some seemed interested; others, tuned out; one or two, hostile; most, impassive. Sandy kept staring down at him. Her head seemed to be weaving slightly. As their eyes crossed she smiled again, but it wasn’t friendly. More like someone contemplating a tasty meal.
A nudge; one of the staffers passed up a note. When he unfolded it, it was Blair’s handwriting. Who is the woman on the right? She keeps staring at you.
He pocketed it, then changed his mind. Wrote, Knew her in Dr. Szerenci’s class. You met her at vice president’s house. Tennessee congresswoman. Folded it, and held it behind his back until someone took it.
MRS. MACLAY. Back to you, Captain Lenson. Your actions vis-à-vis the Israeli counterstrike. That is the crux of the matter we want to get to.
CAPTAIN LENSON. Yes, ma’am. To cut to the bottom line, we detected the Israeli launch, and I took it under fire and destroyed it.
MR. PARKS. Without authorization.
CAPTAIN LENSON. Under the guidance provided in my orders. Specifically, the directive to safeguard civilian populations.
MR. PARKS. You were aware we were at war with Iraq?
CAPTAIN LENSON. With respect, sir, I understood we were engaged in regime change. This did not, in my view, change the intent of the orders.
MRS. MACLAY. All right. I think we have clarified Captain Lenson’s view of the matter, as the commander on the scene. If I understand correctly, his position is that he made that decision based on his written rules of engagement. What we are concerned with here is, first, if he actually followed those rules, and, second, if so, whether those guidelines are sufficiently transparent and inclusive so as to avoid having our commanders subject to having to reinterpret them at short notice. Believe me, we here do not enjoy having to second-guess our military commanders. That is far from our intent. I would like now to have, first, Dr. Hui’s, then Admiral Niles’s position on those two questions. After that, if Dr. Szerenci has anything he would like to contribute, the subcommittee would be glad to have his input as well.
DR. HUI. Madam Chairman, you are entering upon questions of national security, questions as to the strategic employment of certain new weapons, that go to the heart of our alliance relationships, commitments outside my portfolio. As scientists, we can comment on the technical aspects of developing antiballistic systems. But you are asking a policy question that needs to be addressed at the military command level.
MRS. MACLAY. Your response is noted. Admiral Niles, it seems like the buck is on your desk.
ADMIRAL NILES. Thank you, Madam Chairman. I will answer both questions. First, Captain Lenson made, perhaps not the only possible decision he could logically derive from his guidance, but still, a rational decision under conditions of great pressure. Would I have made that same decision? Possibly not. But it is justifiable under the terms of his orders.
The answer to your second question will be unsatisfactory, perhaps. It has to do with the latitude one allows commanders in combat. As you recall, I began with the comment that Navy tradition allows its commanding officers considerable leeway in how they fight their ships. It is possible that his rules of engagement should have specified that they did not mean for him to forestall acts of war by our allies. However, that, in my view, would be a mistake.
MR. PARKS. That is a less than satisfactory answer, Admiral.
ADMIRAL NILES. Then I will have to say that if a more detailed guidance is necessary, it properly needs to come from the secretary of defense. Inasmuch as it concerns a conflict between our commitments to an ally, and relevant sections of UN treaty and international law, it should be studied at the highest political level.
MRS. MACLAY. All right, thank you, Admiral. Dr. Szerenci: you represent that highest political level, as the national security adviser to the president. We would be glad to hear your opinion.
DR. SZERENCI. With all due respect, ma’am, this is a question we are debating within the administration. I would not care to vouchsafe a personal opinion until we have had time to exercise due diligence and take legal counsel.
However, I would like to point out that the very fact we are able to have a debate like this—to discuss whether the United States should exercise some sort of international police power, to abort or strike down any ballistic attack or counterattack, by whatever country—is a source of considerable deterrent effect.
Deeper than this, however, lies a question of the limits of national power. Let’s move past whether this officer acted rightly or wrongly, to a broader issue. I have heard the idea advanced that if we have technology to prevent a strike, we are bound by international law to stop it, irrespective of its origin. Certain quarters are even calling this—to Captain Lenson’s outrage, I feel sure—the “Lenson Doctrine,” and calling for its adoption as policy.
Though such a policy might be superficially appealing, I can hardly imagine a more dangerous course. It would place the United States in the position of an officer of the law on the most dangerous corners of the world, but without the legitimacy of that corner policeman. The only way to legitimize such a mission would be under the aegis of the United Nations; and this is unacceptable to large portions of our public. Also, many of our closest allies have or are developing such missile systems, for defensive purposes. Finally, it would require massive investments in equipment, sensors, and manpower. As the funding authority for our forces, Congress should tread especially carefully here.
Thank you for the opportunity to state my position.
MRS. MACLAY. Thank you, Dr. Szerenci. For the insight into geopolitical realities, and also for the reminder that we fund the armed forces.
DR. SZERENCI. I apologize, ma’am.
MRS. TREHERNE. Madam Chairman?
MRS. MACLAY. The chair recognizes Congresswoman Treherne as a guest of the committee.
Dan sat erect, skin prickling with a foretaste of storm. Treherne’s cheeks were flushed bright red. Her hair looked as if she hadn’t combed it. Niles beckoned an aide to his side and whispered into his ear. Szerenci sat frowning, twiddling a gold mechanical pencil.
MRS. TREHERNE. It seems to me that an important part of all this is being left out. That is, does everyone realize certain things about this man—Lenson?
MRS. MACLAY. Can the congresswoman please expand on her statement?
MRS. TREHERNE. I will be happy to do so. I have known this … officer for many years, and frankly, I am astonished his likes are still tolerated in our armed forces. I’m sitting here listening to this list of his medals and all this praise, but the truth is, this man is a closet pacifist. He was closely associated with antiwar elements in this city, including the radical Dorothy Day House, home of the convicted saboteur Carl Haneghan and the Griffiss Four. How did such a man get promoted? Is the subcommittee going to take his anti-American activities into account?
MR. PARKS. These are surprising allegations. If true, they are serious indeed.
MRS. TREHERNE. They are both true and serious. They point to a dangerous penetration of peace elements, elements that desire the weakening and defeat of the United States, into our national defense. What exactly is Lenson advocating? I think Dr. Szerenci hit the nail on the head. Nothing less than turning our armed forces into some sort of Gestapo that enforces the will of the United Nations around the world, ending in tyranny.
“This woman knows you?” Niles whispered from behind a large hand. “She’s drunk.”
MRS. MACLAY. Admiral Niles, were you aware of such activities on the part of Mr. Lenson, Captain Lenson, before his being placed in command?
ADMIRAL NILES. Ma’am, I have known Daniel V. Lenson since he was a junior officer. I believe that at one time he dated a woman who was involved in those circles. However, he has rendered sterling service in very demanding circumstances. I have never believed all leaders are cast from the same mold, or that one step out of line, as long as it’s for praiseworthy reasons, renders an officer unfit for command.
MRS. TREHERNE. Is that so, Admiral? Then he’s pulled the wool over your eyes, that’s for sure. Let me ask him one question. Lenson. One direct question.
MR. LA BLANC. Really, this is going beyond the prerogatives of a guest of the subcommittee. Did we come here to conduct a witch hunt, or to examine policy?
MRS. MACLAY. I rather agree, but in the interests of clarification, I would tend to let the congresswoman ask her single question of the witness. One only.
MRS. TREHERNE. Very good. Captain Lenson, then.
CAPTAIN LENSON. Yes, Congresswoman.
MRS. TREHERNE. You are in command of a ship that has these antimissile missiles. We, the Americans, launch a missile that’s headed for an enemy population center. Not a military installation. A city. Will you shoot that down? Yes or no?
Dan took a deep breath. Beside him Niles was still as a mountain. Szerenci’s proton-beam stare was scorching him from the opposite side. The national security adviser hissed, “Of course you wouldn’t. Just say so.” And Blair, no doubt, was glaring at his back.
MRS. MACLAY. Captain Lenson? Will you respond to the question?
CAPTAIN LENSON. To my knowledge, attacks on population centers are not part of our war planning.
ADMIRAL NILES. If I may? This is a speculative question based on a highly unlikely hypothetical. It’s unfair to pose this as some kind of litmus test, without first providing the ROEs and guidance from higher authority we are discussing in this subcommittee.
MRS. TREHERNE. But we attacked cities in World War II. If we do it again, whose side will you be on, Captain Lenson? I ask once more, yes or no: would you shoot down our own missile?
DR. SZERENCI. I must protest. I understand this is closed session. But this type of discussion, on the record in any way … if made public, it could seriously compromise our deterrent posture.
MRS. TREHERNE. I see he’s avoiding the question. Hiding behind his superiors. Or is he taking the Fifth?
Dan sat with his head propped on his right hand. Answer the question, then shut up … and, by the way, don’t make news. Unfortunately, it wasn’t turning out that straightforwardly. Each second seemed to stretch out even longer than it had when a missile had been burning its way down toward Savo Island. And only flawed engineering, or too-hasty assembly, had resulted in its not tearing through steel and flesh to explode at last deep inside her hull. He’d put his crew’s life on the line, to defend others. Just like any cop on the street, any day, in any city.
There had to be rules. But there had to be something above, or behind, the rules of the job, too.
A poke and a note: Don’t answer this bitch. Don’t fall for her tricks. Blair’s handwriting again.
But he couldn’t just sit here. That would be admitting her accusations. Hiding behind silence.
CAPTAIN LENSON. I will answer the congresswoman’s question.
MRS. TREHERNE. Good, at long last.
CAPTAIN LENSON. In the circumstances you cite, such a weapon would have to have been launched in defiance of established U.S. policy: that we limit collateral damage, that we don’t target enemy populations as such. Therefore, the answer is: yes, I would shoot it down.
MRS. TREHERNE. You see? He’d sell us out, based on some kind of skewed personal softheartedness. What good are our weapons, when we have men like this in charge? There’s a rottenness here. A lack of commitment to the principles that made this country what it is. And it goes very deep, into all kinds of—
MRS. MACLAY. The congresswoman is out of order. This is not the occasion for a stump speech. I would like to return to the issue at hand: defining national-level antimissile policy. Mrs. Treherne, I must ask you to leave.
Dan adjusted his tie, feeling sweat trickle under his dress blues, as Sandy Cottrell Treherne fired a last venomous parting glance down at him. She rose unsteadily, nearly knocking her chair over, and tottered off. He eased a breath out, conscious that every word they’d traded was now part of the record. He caught Niles’s glance, resting on him like a lead carapace; Szerenci’s elevated eyebrows, regretful shake of the head. The junior staffers stared with wide-eyed horror. Only Blair regarded him levelly; then, after a moment, winked and grinned.
MR. LA BLANC. Should we perhaps strike that exchange from the record?
MRS. MACLAY. I think it serves a useful purpose. Let’s leave it. But it does seem that the executive branch needs to devote more attention to the guidance furnished to commanding officers in the field. Now, returning to funding of an additional increment—remember?—we will take a short adjournment, after which we will hear on the topic from the deputy undersecretary of defense for strategy, plans, and forces.
The gavel came down. Sucking air bereft of oxygen, Dan hoisted himself to his feet. His neck felt as if someone had been mining for silver between his cervical vertebrae. A worried murmur rose from the back of the hearing room. Edging between the chairs, he caught Niles’s brooding glance as the admiral slipped a small object into his cheek, where it bulged. An Atomic Fireball, no doubt. Dan cleared his throat. “Um, hope I didn’t screw the pooch, there.”
Niles said heavily, “You were doing reasonably well until that woman started holding your feet to the fire. It would’ve been better to obfuscate, Lenson. Lay a little smoke and sneak away. Didn’t the murder board tell you…”
“Don’t make news. I tried not to, sir.”
Blair slid through the crowd. She patted his back. Szerenci leaned in to shake his hand and offer a consoling word before heading for the door. It was like a party breaking up, almost.
“So what happens now?” Dan asked Niles.
The admiral sighed. He started away, shaking his head, then looked back. “You know, I think keeping you out of Washington was a good idea.”