Objective- Freedom

by James Huber

  Kirby considered that and felt it supported him. “Canada is a different story. If they wanted to, they could block access to the Great Lakes, which would cripple our northern states even more. I have no reason to believe they’d do that, but there wouldn’t be much short of all-out war to stop them.

  “My only hope is we can keep them allied with us while they also become allied to the Coalition. I see no reason against it. We aren’t belligerent with the Coalition.”

  President Green thought about that for a moment. “Have there been any diplomatic feelers coming from the Coalition? I haven’t heard of any.”

  “I believe Secretary of State Randall is open to anything we propose, but the major stumbling block was John Raven. Raven was always a firebrand. You should know. He served with you in the war.”

  “What about Amalia Espada? I believe she’s extremely antifederal.”

  “No, Ray. I believe she’s extremely anti-interference. She feels the US government has gotten too big for its britches and has interfered in states’ rights for too long. Robert Curtis was working on that issue when the secession began. We need to start a campaign showing we have reinstituted states’ rights the way they should be.

  “You kept up with Curtis’s program, and it’s working. The states have taken a major burden off the federal government, both financially and responsibly. We need to tell people that.”

  Green pressed a button on the intercom. “Ask General Hamilton to come in here, will you? Also get the press secretary.”

  The secretary of state would be the main person responsible for improving the image of the United States as a free and populace-governed country. President Green just hoped it wasn’t too late to tell people.

  He told his appointments secretary to cancel the rest of his appointments for the day. He wanted to spend the rest of the day and the night with Secretary of State Kirby. He wasn’t to be disturbed for any reason.

  The only exceptions were Chairman Harris or Ambassador Randall from the Coalition. All other callers were to be referred to the appropriate office.

  The appointments secretary wasn’t pleased, but there was little to say. When the announcement went out to the West Wing offices, most people accepted them and returned to work. The press secretary objected, saying he wanted to know why the order was given.

  The appointments secretary and the press secretary weren’t on good terms. Both thought the other redundant, and the two offices should be combined, but the president disagreed. Though the two secretaries could talk and argue about it, his decision was firm. He didn’t have time for two minor functionaries trying to run the White House.

  The press secretary said he had to make up a reason the

  president wasn’t available. He was good at that after what he’d been through.

  President Green and Secretary Kirby got to work. The treasury secretary left a current balance sheet with the president, and they studied it, but the news was dismal and discouraging.

  President Green broke the gloomy silence first. “If things continue on their present track, we’ll be forced to lay off 75% of government employees within ninety days.”

  Kirby, reading the figures again, nodded. The situation was bad before, but suddenly, it looked worse.

  “We have to keep Canada on our side,” Kirby said. “We’ve lost many of our natural resources when the Southwest Coalition seceded. I’m working on trade agreements with them, but they’re overly cautious due to our financial situation. They won’t accept credit, and they insist on being paid in precious metal or commodities.

  “That’s common for an emerging nation. The problem is their total lack of cooperation. They act as if we’re their enemy. We haven’t attacked them. We helped them when the attack came

  across California’s southern border. I’m constantly working new ideas and talking to my assistants for an answer.

  “Elliott Randall is the toughest SOB in the world to deal with. He won’t give an inch. I wish I knew some way to influence him. The only governor of theirs who has any sway over him is Amalia Espada, but she constantly brings up states’ rights in every speech. Since she has a one-track mind on negotiations, we won’t get anywhere with her.”

  President Green leaned back in his chair, his head cradled in his hands while Kirby spoke. “JJ, that’s why you’re secretary of state. You can work out this problem. You’ve been given time to do it, but that time’s almost gone. We don’t have the luxury of waiting for things to work out.”

  “We need to get things done. My only questions are what, how, and when. What needs to be done? How do we do it? When should we do it?

  “Those are the questions we have to answer, and we’ve got to address all of them. We won’t leave this room until we do. I hate to pressure you, but I have little choice.”

  Kirby felt admonished but accepted it. He wasn’t a

  procrastinator, just a man who wanted all the facts before he acted. He realized he lost time, and action was required immediately.

  Though Kirby was cautious, the president stared at him, waiting for answers. Kirby had stared down kings, emirs, and prime ministers, but he never felt that kind of scrutiny before.

  He sat on the edge of his seat, his mind racing. He needed to respond, but his mind was blank.

  His dilemma was solved when Colonel Hamilton knocked on the door.

  Ray Green, recognizing the knock, said, “Come in, Hamilton. Make it quick.”

  Colonel Hamilton walked into the room. “I just received a message from our joint chiefs of staff. You and Secretary Kirby need to read it. Attorney General Tremont is on her way. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. Believe me, Mr. President, I tried to dissuade her.”

  “Relax, Colonel,” President Green said. “You did the right thing. Tremont needs to be in on this.”

  Green passed the note to Kirby, who wasn’t surprised, though he was upset. It was another setback they didn’t need and might not be able to handle.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  The same message was delivered by military courier from Holloman Air Force Base to the desk of Chairman Kyle Harris in Fort Worth. When he finished reading it, he set up a conference call with the other governors in the Coalition and with Adjutant General Polk, Ambassador Randall, Colonel Roberts, and General Joe Thompson.

  When all were connected, he read the message.

  “US Navy Intelligence reports on the findings of the submersible retrieval vehicle used on the sunken tanker in the Pacific. Items recovered conclusively prove the invasion launched on the Southern California was instigated, supplied, funded, and trained for by Iran.

  “Naval intelligence has printed documents, including a message from the ayatollah blessing the warriors and their mission. The mercenary soldiers who accompanied the raid were of various nationalities, most being Mexican and Salvadoran. The senior sergeants and naval officers were all Iranian.

  “The equipment recovered is minimal, but all has been traced to Iran. The degree of certainty is 99%. Photos to follow if requested.”

  “Why would the Iranians do such a thing?” Governor Tate asked.

  “The Ayatollah made Iran the outcast of the Middle East,” Ambassador Randall replied.

  “He’s a blight on the area and worse than Saddam Hussein ever was. His use of mercenaries and his premeditated attack on America proves the man’s fanaticism will never be curbed. He believes he and his country are invulnerable, can do what they wish, and go where they wish.”

  “Why attack here?” Governor Wilson asked.

  “We have in Texas, Oklahoma, and Colorado most of the supply of natural gas available in North America,” Randall said.

  “Only the Dakotas come close, and everyone remembers what the useless president did to that supply. The Ayatollah apparently planned to enter the Coalition from California. If he could take us out, he would become the principal supplier again. He could dictate price and who would get it. We’d be at the bottom of the list, just above
the United States.

  “Winter’s coming. If it’s a bad one, and natural gas is in short supply, the US could suffer grievously. I believe I should contact Secretary Kirby and set up negotiations with them to make sure they don’t freeze this winter. There’s no other option. We owe them nothing, but they’re only months and feet removed from us.

  “I ask the council’s approval to open immediate talks with the United States to discuss trade agreements.”

  “Does anyone object?” Chairman Harris asked.

  No one spoke. Randall was too highly regarded to argue against. He left immediately to call Washington.

  Colonel Roberts, reading the message again, was able to determine exactly where the training for the mission occurred. When he asked to speak, the chairman nodded.

  “I’m not a professional military man,” Colonel Roberts said, “but I can read a topographical map. The area of the Iranian training base is very similar to our border with Mexico. It’s about 100 kilometers east of the Bandar Abbas airport in southeastern Iran. That’s one of the areas under constant surveillance because of its proximity to the Straits of Hormuz. The training camp was probably situated far enough inland to avoid being seen by satellite.

  “The area is inaccessible by boat. The nearest airport is under very strict security. The only way to get in is by helicopter or overland. The geography is very inhospitable and is the harshest area they could use. If we took out that training camp, we’d send a message to the ayatollah that he isn’t invulnerable or invincible.”

  Chairman Harris looked at General Polk. “Can it be done?”

  “Not without aircraft,” the general replied. “It’s too dangerous for such a small target. We’d have to fly halfway around the world to attack, and we’d have no allied bases to protect us. It’s out of the question for the Coalition.”

  “Why do we have to get involved?” Governor Espada asked. “This is a foreign matter. They didn’t attack us. We swore we’d stay out of foreign affairs.”

  “I’ll tell you why, Governor,” Governor Wilson said. “If they succeeded in blocking off that area, they would have shut down commerce into the United States’ west coast. They would have cut our pipelines. Then we’d be at the mercy of the ayatollahs for petroleum and natural gas. Is that what you want?”

  “Of course not, but I don’t want to get involved in world affairs, either. We agreed.”

  The other governors told her they weren’t getting involved. It was just economics. Isolationism was a poor way to run a country. Every time someone tried it, the country failed. No country but North Korea seemed able to exist that way.

  Unmoved, she remained silent.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  In Teheran, the Ayatollah assessed the loss of his commando force. He had no idea how it was destroyed, but he had suspicions. The money spent was gone, though it was a paltry sum. The small tanker was junk. The Iranian Navy commanders assured him there was no chance anyone could pin the incursion on Iran. All records went down with the ship. Since the US and the Coalition weren’t allies, it was unreasonable to think the U. S. would allow its navy to attempt to recover an old ship lost to an apparent boiler explosion.

  The ayatollah wasn’t convinced, but there was little he could do. He had to wait and watch, as would the council of experts in Teheran. They could oust him into retirement over a failure like that. Some on the council cautioned against the move, thinking it premature.

  The ayatollah’s oil ministers said it was risk-free to capture that area and shut off the natural gas supplies, which would cripple the Great Satan. It hadn’t worked, but something would eventually. His helper was still in place.

  He would move more slowly and make sure the next time. If he had another incident like that one, he would end up sweeping floors in a slum around Shiraz. The position of ayatollah often made the holder comfortable and relaxed. When a leader became complacent, he was often swayed by radical elements in the government.

  It was already happening. The Ayatollah appeared to be an ascetic, but he wasn’t.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  The Oval Office filled rapidly. Colonel Hamilton decided it would be best to move everyone into the Situation Room, which was more secure and had a conference room attached.

  The assembled group included President Green, Attorney General Lillian Tremont, Secretary of State Kirby, the press secretary, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Admiral Frank Velasco, and Director of the NSA Lieutenant General Ozzie Burton.

  The military gathered while everyone digested the implications of the recent news. Finally, President Green called the meeting to order.

  “The message makes it abundantly clear that the incursion into California wasn’t an act of bandits but a mercenary force financed and trained by Iran. The goal was to disrupt the pipelines and cut us off from natural gas and oil, which would have crippled us this winter.

  “The leaders in Iran know it, and they think we’re weak and disorderly. We have to show them otherwise. No discussion. I want a punitive raid launched without four hours. They think we’re weak and indecisive. We aren’t. Take out that training complex.”

  He sat back and waited. Admiral Velasco picked up a telephone receiver and said, “Commence operations.”

  Colonel Hamilton brought in a message. There was a call waiting from Ambassador Elliott Randall. President Green went to the secure office to accept the call. After talking five minutes, he returned to the meeting.

  “Gentlemen and Ladies, we have a new ballgame,” he announced. “Ambassador Elliott Randall of the Coalition gave me a chance to make a deal with them. They received the same message. I’m guessing it came through Holloman Air Force Base.”

  General Burton, nodding, made another note to shut down that base.

  “Randall is open to any trade agreements we propose. He’s been given power to open talks with us. We need that oil and gas. We’ll worry about recognition later.

  “JJ and Lillian, set up a conference to begin tomorrow morning at 7:30 in a neutral state. JJ, I want you to take Colonel Hamilton and six extra Secret Service people. Don’t take the obvious ones. We need subtlety. I want a treaty as quickly as possible.”

  “Mr. President,” Attorney General Tremont asked, “don’t you realize that the Senate is the body that approves treaties?”

  The president gave her a withering look, so she stepped back.

  “The Senate can go straight to hell on this one,” Kirby said.

  “They and their constant arguing, bickering, and deal-making are what got us here in the first place. If we take this to them, they’d staff it out to some interns, who would edit it completely out of context. Next, they’d send it to a senator who wouldn’t even bother to read it. Then they’d form a committee and take three months to decide who was owed the most favors. After they finally decided, they’d appoint the senator as chairman.

  “The next thing you know, they’d argue over who’d be on the committee. After all that was settled, they’d take time to figure out where to hold negotiations. OK. It seems that negotiations have to be held in a room with a table and chairs. It would take another session of the legislature to decide the shape of the table.

  “Now for the best part—what color and style of chair to purchase? The procurement system would then start.

  “So I say, ‘To hell with the Senate.’ They can try to stop us later. That would make them very unpopular back home, because we’d put out word they were all pond scum, sitting safe in DC, not caring a whit if the old folks at home froze their asses off.”

  Stopping for a breath, he received a round of applause.

  Admiral Velasco stepped up and slapped Kirby’s back. “Mr. Secretary, it sure is nice to meet a real statesman rather than a career politician. You and President Green make a heck of a team.”

  “Don’t be too sure of that, Sailor. If I were to meet that traitorous bastard Randall, I’d shoot him myself.”

  “Allow me to ret
ract the statesman portion of that comment.” As those assembled prepared to leave the room, Colonel

  Hamilton’s emergency pager beeped. The call was from the National Security Council. General Burton’s pager beeped next, and both men walked toward the nearest phone.

  Now what? President Green wondered. What else can happen? My schedule’s full. I don’t have time for another crisis.

  Emergency notification also went off in the command center in the basement of the capitol in Fort Worth. Everyone was getting the news.

  “Mr. President, the Royal Navy just sank a tramp steamer in the North Sea oil fields after an aborted attempt to blow up an offshore rig owned by British Petroleum,” General Burton said.

  “Their navy confirms the captured crewmembers are Iranian.”

  “Secretary Kirby,” President Green said, “please call Ambassador Randall and tell him we want oil and gas in trade for protection. Tell him I’m removing that training camp from the face of the earth. He needs to reciprocate and open some pipelines.

  “Remind him terrorists can strike anywhere, and the Coalition could be next. Hitting that training camp will show the Iranians we mean business.”

  He turned to his aide de camp, Colonel Tony Hamilton.

  “Tony, move the Situation Room to war readiness. Get the National Emergency Command Post into the air and tell the Coalition we’re taking out a camp, then give them the coordinates.”

  “Bert, get the press room open and the press in there. I’m going on the air in ninety minutes. Then get me the ambassador at the British embassy.

  “Let’s go, Folks. We have serious work to do. JJ and Lil, get out to Fort Worth and do your best. Lil, kick him under the table if he blows up.”

  Kirby, smiling, waved as he left.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  One hour later, massive explosions erupted over the desert east of Bandar Abbas. No one saw it coming. Not one single blip appeared on radar. The US Navy launched four cruise missiles that came into the camp 100 feet off the ground, proving the missiles’ ability once again.