Interstate 66 didn’t have traffic at this hour, so she was cruising comfortably down the highway when the lights of a car appeared about six car lengths behind her. She squinted in her rearview mirror. She could swear it was the same black Forester from the other day, with its high roof and red-and-blue diplomatic plates. This time it wasn’t tailgating, and it was too distant to see the driver. Scared and in a hurry, Andrea floored her car, going eighty miles per hour all the way to the White House. She didn’t look in her rearview mirror again until she crossed into DC. When she did, the Forester was gone.
President Murray’s national security staff had assembled in the Situation Room. Principals sat at the long, polished mahogany table with gold metal trim. Andrea had taken a seat against the wall where the staffers sat.
This was her first time in the Situation Room. A carved wooden presidential seal hung on the front wall. Each leather chair had the seal of the president embroidered into its back. Custom White House water bottles and etched White House glasses were neatly arranged in front of each seat.
Andrea surveyed the assembled group and felt herself shrinking.
Secretary of Defense Todd Andrews sat to the left of President Murray’s seat at the head of the table. He’d managed to get into a suit and tie for the meeting and his hair was perfectly parted and blow-dried.
Next to Secretary Andrews sat Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff General Edwin Ogden. Even at this ungodly hour his heavyset frame was ramrod straight at attention. The general was in uniform, his left breast covered in rows of medals and bars.
Admiral Trey Wilkerson sat to President Murray’s right. If General Ogden was the stereotypical army general, Admiral Wilkerson was the classic navy man. Tall and lean, his narrow frame extended well above the back of the chair in his pressed Navy whites.
And Vice President Matthew Campbell sat beside Wilkerson. He was by far the biggest person at the table, looking every bit the offensive lineman he was at the Naval Academy. He was in a crisp suit and tie, missing only the pocket square he favored.
The room exuded America’s power and majesty. From the massive mahogany table, to the crisp military uniforms, to the sophisticated secure telephone, it appeared every bit the superpower nerve center it was.
Andrea began to regret crashing the meeting.
Here she was, Andrea Gartner, CPA, seated among the cream of the national security elite. All of them were dressed as if it was a normal morning while she had thrown on the first outfit she could find. These guys were used to the middle-of-the-night crisis call. She felt inferior, out of place, a dwarf among giants. It didn’t take long for the military men to object to her presence.
“What the hell is she doing here?” General Ogden bellowed. “She’s not a national security principal.”
“OMB needs to be part of this discussion,” President Murray insisted. “We may be about to spend a lot of money.”
“Yes, Mr. President,” General Ogden mumbled, making no effort to hide his disdain.
The president started the meeting. “Gentlemen, ladies, there is a crisis in the South China Sea. Todd, what is the current status?”
Secretary Andrews’s grim mien said it all. “Mr. President, the Chinese have launched a full-scale invasion of Taiwan. They’re cutting off all sea lanes in the South China Sea.”
Andrea feverishly took notes, too intimidated to speak. She still felt as though everyone was looking at her, the interloper who didn’t belong. Taking notes provided a distraction.
“Satellite imagery shows a Chinese aircraft carrier group positioned off the coast of Taiwan,” Secretary Andrews continued. “Based on the imagery, DoD assesses Taiwan is completely blockaded by the Chinese navy. We’ve also confirmed with American diplomats on the ground in Taipei that Chinese aircraft are regularly flying sorties over Taiwan.”
Andrea looked around the room again. A year ago, she was doing peoples’ taxes. Now she was sitting in the White House Situation Room hearing about aircraft carrier groups and sorties over Taiwan.
Just keep taking notes. Look like you’re following along.
“Has anyone on the diplomatic team spoken with President Chen?” Murray asked.
“No, sir,” Secretary Andrews replied. “President Chen is missing. There are thousands of Chinese paratroopers dropping into Taiwan, and landing craft filled with Chinese soldiers are coming ashore on Taiwanese beaches.”
Murray rubbed his chin. Andrea recognized he was resorting to his trick of stalling for time by thinking of additional questions.
“Has the Taiwanese military deployed?” Murray asked.
“Get Admiral Reboulet on the line, please,” Secretary Andrews said.
A staffer in the rear pressed a button and Admiral Cal Reboulet, commander of the Navy’s Pacific Command, appeared on a screen at the front of the room by secure conference call. He wore the close-cropped gray hair of a navy lifer.
“I spoke with General Tsai for about fifteen minutes before communications were interrupted,” Reboulet said. “The Taiwanese Army is deployed in Taipei, and some Taiwanese fighter jets were able to scramble. But the Chinese took a lot of Taiwanese jets out before they could get airborne. I’ve been watching the explosions from the deck of my ship.”
Murray nodded grimly.
“We’ve been getting reports saying Taipei has fallen and the Taiwanese president has gone into hiding,” Reboulet continued. “We’ve confirmed the South China Sea is now completely blocked to commercial and international shipping.”
“Anything else?” Murray asked.
“The Chinese Navy has completely blockaded Taiwan. And, Mr. President, you should know we have two ships with over one hundred sailors docked in Taipei and trapped,” Reboulet said. “They’re the ones who reported the fall of Taipei.”
“Good lord,” Murray spluttered. “How do you all see things playing out over the next few hours?”
“Mr. President, Taiwan could be overrun by the time the sun rises in DC,” Andrews said.
Andrea noted the digital clock on the wall next to the screen. It read 03:37.
“Can you turn the monitor to CNN, please?” Murray asked an attendant. “See if they’re broadcasting. You all remember Peter Arnett in the First Gulf War?”
Murmurs of agreement came from around the table. The screen split, with Admiral Reboulet on one side and CNN on the other.
The team gasped almost in unison.
“Good lord,” said Ogden.
On the screen, Chinese soldiers were in the streets of Taipei firing at Taiwanese soldiers and civilians. Tanks crushed improvised barricades of cars, concrete bollards, and fencing. Fires burned halfway up Taipei’s tallest skyscrapers where trapped civilians desperately waved their cell phones, hoping someone would come to their rescue.
The image of a dead civilian lying in the street, blood flowing like a river from him, turned Andrea’s stomach. She slouched in her seat under General Ogden’s glare. It was clear she wasn’t wanted here.
“All right, folks, I need options,” the president said.
General Ogden, Admiral Wilkerson, and Secretary Andrews exchanged looks and nods suggesting they had been discussing this for hours. They were experienced crisis managers. Big leaguers. Andrea could barely hold it together watching CNN.
“This is the gravest crisis since Korea.” Campbell’s chiseled jaw locked as he clenched his teeth. “It calls for a forceful response.”
“We need to reopen the South China Sea,” Andrews said.
“And how do you propose we do that?” Murray asked.
“A freedom of navigation flotilla,” Wilkerson chimed in. “The USS Ronald Reagan carrier battle group is already in the South China Sea. We’ve got the Reagan, five destroyer escorts, and a handful of cruisers with anti-aircraft and Aegis anti-missile systems. They’re in position and ready to run the Chinese blockade.”
Andrea jerked her head back and forth like a tennis spectator as the four men volleyed ideas. All
she could think about was the cost of what they were proposing. She stiffened. Are you mad? she chastised herself. Worrying about finances when American lives are at stake?
“And Taiwan?” Murray asked.
“Run that blockade too,” Wilkerson responded.
“And put some troops on those blockade runners that can land in Taiwan and help the Taiwanese fight back,” Ogden added.
Murray nodded in agreement with his military advisors. “We can’t let this aggression stand. The South China Sea is too important to let the Chinese simply take it. The Koreans and Japanese will be shitting bricks.”
“Besides,” said Admiral Wilkerson, “the Chinese would never be dumb enough to shoot at our flotilla. They don’t want a war with the United States.”
“Exactly,” Secretary Andrews agreed. “Running the blockade is a step short of going to war. We’re not shooting. We’re just restoring the status quo ante.”
Andrea fidgeted with her pen, hoping someone in the room might disagree, or at least challenge the president and his military men. She was no foreign policy expert. South China Sea, Taiwan, freedom of navigation . . . none of it held much meaning for her. All she knew was that it sounded damn expensive.
“I think we’re all in agreement,” said President Murray. “Trey, order Admiral Reboulet to assemble two flotillas to run the blockades.”
Andrea hadn’t budgeted the hundreds of millions of dollars these flotillas would cost. Worse, what if the Chinese started shooting at them after all? She prayed someone might speak up and challenge the president and his military men, but all she heard was silence.
“We’re settled, then?” Murray said.
“Wait,” said Andrea feebly.
All eyes were on her. General Ogden’s eyes widened, and Admiral Wilkerson’s eyes narrowed. Secretary Andrews grimaced. They left no doubt: Andrea’s comments were not welcome.
She hesitated and hunched her shoulders. The three most powerful military men in America were glowering at her. She felt the entire combined force of the United States military trained upon her, trying to stare her into silence.
“Go on, Andrea,” Murray said. “What’s on your mind?”
At least someone wants to hear from me. Focus on Murray. Don’t look at the military men. You didn’t force your way into this meeting to be a wallflower.
“Mr. President, you asked for options, but it isn’t options you need. What you need is cash. Any deployment of troops and ships will cost up to a billion dollars a day. We have enough reserve funds to last us about four weeks. After that—”
“Who do you think you are speaking in here?” Secretary Andrews thundered. “This is the Situation Room. The national security staff speaks in here. I don’t care if you’re new to government, we follow protocol.”
“But this is important. A few weeks of ships and troops being deployed, and we’ll be out of money.” As she spoke, she looked at the president. He gave her an encouraging look. Fortified by the president’s unspoken message, Andrea found her voice and spoke with conviction. “We’d need to borrow again or make even steeper cuts to Social Security and Medicare. We’ll have to choose: save Taiwan or fund what’s left of Social Security and Medicare.”
Secretary Andrews scowled. Andrea shrugged her shoulders at him. She was determined to put the money issue on the table if no one else would, protocol be damned.
“Look, I’m just saying that if we somehow get ourselves in a war, we’re going to go bankrupt in about four weeks. Not maybe . . . we will go bankrupt.”
General Ogden looked exasperated. “Are you saying the United States can’t fight a war?”
Andrea could tell he was chomping at the bit to square off against the Chinese and saw her as the only thing standing between him and his fight.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Unless you plan to fight a war with volunteers swinging their fists, we cannot pay for a war. We can’t even pay for your blockade runners without making more cuts. We just don’t have the money.”
President Murray sagged in his chair. Then his eyes widened, as if an idea had just popped into his head. “You think people might lend to us now to fight the war?” he asked. “Goodness knows Japan or South Korea are probably scared enough to loan us money.”
Andrea shook her head. “I don’t think so, Mr. President. No one was lending to us before this. I really doubt they’ll lend now. Lenders will be scared out of their minds and put their money under their mattresses.”
“What about war bonds?” General Ogden asked.
Andrea curled her face into a look of disdain. “Would you buy bonds from someone forty trillion in debt, General?”
General Ogden scowled but said nothing. Admiral Wilkerson was muttering to himself. She obviously had upended whatever carefully crafted plan the military men had prepared before the meeting.
“I don’t think the Chinese are going to fire on us,” Secretary Andrews said. “They don’t dare fight a war against us.” He flashed Andrea a look as if to say “checkmate.”
General Ogden ominously fingered one of the medals on his uniform while Admiral Wilkerson crossed his arms against his chest, glowering intensely. But the president’s willingness to listen to her had given Andrea confidence. “Mr. Secretary, if ever there was a time for China to start a war with the United States, this would be it.”
Secretary Andrews wasn’t giving up. “Mr. President, the ships are in position and ready to launch the blockade breakers.”
President Murray sat back and looked at the ceiling. Andrea clearly had thrown a monkey wrench into his thinking too.
“We don’t really have a choice,” Murray said after a long pause. “We have to save the Taiwanese and free the South China Sea for international shipping.” He looked at his military men. “I think you all are right. The Chinese wouldn’t shoot at us and start a war.”
Admiral Wilkerson shot a satisfied look toward Andrea. She slunk in her seat, realizing she had lost the argument.
President Murray nodded. “Okay, then. Run the blockade. Do it as soon as possible.”
Admiral Reboulet saluted. “Yes, sir, Mr. President.”
The president continued, “Edwin, have the Air Force begin sorties over Taiwan. Let’s airlift food and medicine to civilians there. And put landing troops on some of those blockade runners.”
“Yes, sir.” General Ogden gave a crisp salute.
“That concludes the meeting,” Murray said. “Anything else from anyone?”
Andrea felt compelled to reiterate her point. “Whatever we do, we have to get it done in four weeks. Otherwise, we’re out of cash and either cutting more from Social Security and Medicare or stopping any military action cold. There’s nothing anyone in this room can do about that.” She exhaled. She’d said her peace. From the way the military men were looking at her, she thought they might strangle her if she said another word.
“Understood, Andrea,” Murray said. “Cal, when will the blockade running flotilla launch?”
“Three hours, sir. 0700 Washington time.”
“Good. Let’s all reconvene here at 0700. I’m going up to the Oval to notify Congress.”
He stood up to leave the Situation Room and the rest of the team stood up at attention as he left.
On his way out, General Ogden approached Andrea. “You find us the money to fight the Chinese, you understand?” He wagged his finger in her face.
“General, I’ll do what I can. But get this over within four weeks so we won’t have to find out if I’ve succeeded.”
“You don’t know a thing about fighting,” General Ogden sneered as he headed for the door. “Stick to bookkeeping.”
Andrea cursed the fates. She was physically exhausted and emotionally spent. Her confidence was already at a low ebb and the meeting had exponentially exacerbated her inferiority complex. She should have just stayed in bed.
She wandered outside to the South Lawn and walked along the perimeter fence, alone with her thought
s. The Washington Monument was darkened, its illumination cut under the emergency budget. She headed across Constitution Avenue to take a closer look.
When she reached the base of the monument, she looked east toward the Capitol and then west toward the Lincoln Memorial. Both were dark, their floodlights cut as well. In the distance, beyond the Lincoln Memorial, she could see Arlington Cemetery in the moonlight. Tens of thousands of American soldiers were buried there, killed in battle defending America’s freedom.
Andrea thought of those soldiers and what they must have faced. The bullets whizzing by on the beaches of Normandy. Kamikaze planes crashing onto the decks of their ships. Ambushes in Korea and Vietnam. Roadside bombs in Iraq. What were her problems compared to those? Whatever happened with the budget, her life wasn’t in danger.
What could the generals, the admirals, or the politicians do to you that was anything close to what those soldiers lying in Arlington went through? Who cares if you get dirty looks? Who cares if they tell you that you don’t belong here? You are here. You got yourself into this position by banging the debt gong loud enough that someone finally listened.
A couple of lights were on in the House office buildings. They reminded her of her first encounter with Lewis Mason. If she hadn’t fought back against Mason and his Debt Rebel Gang cronies, Murray would never have brought her onto his team. If that hadn’t happened, she wouldn’t have any chance to fix the debt. There wouldn’t even be an emergency budget if she hadn’t hoisted Mason on his own petard at that Appropriations Committee hearing.
Be the person who stood up to Lewis Mason. You have it in you. You did it then, you can do it now. The president needs you. You’re all he’s got on this.
Andrea thought about all her work to create the emergency budget. It was going to be ruined by whatever was about to happen with China. But now she had a small dose of confidence in her step. She’d survived losing the congressional race. She’d survived Mason’s grilling at the Appropriations Committee hearing. And she’d survived America’s reaction to the emergency budget.
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