by Stuart Slade
"But why smuggle the stuff in? I suppose if they really want to carry the stuff over a beach at midnight there's no reason why they shouldn't." Lansky snapped his fingers. "Its distribution, they have to be setting up their own distribution system and they don't want us to know about it."
"That's what our pigeon said, Meyer. He told us where his stash was and we collected it. Lot of prime-grade coke and H. Guess the coke comes from Colombia or further south, but the H? That's a question. Not the interesting bit though. The guy had a list; which hotels were doing what, who was selling what and where any shortages were. Very interesting list. Covered all the families."
Lansky's face was thoughtful. The families in Cuba had an agreement. Nobody wanted a tourist to be inconvenienced by having their hotel run out of their favorite party favors so if one hotel was running short, another would tide them over. At market rates of course, as Joe Profaci had said when the system was being set up "after all, we are not communists."
All the transfers were recorded and the families settled up at the end of each month when the skim was being divided up. That meant that there were records of who was having supply problems and who was in surplus. Those records were held in Lansky's personal office. If it had been a leak from just one family, then the records could be from that group. For all of them, it had to be Lansky's own office. Now, Lansky saw why Gotti had wanted this meeting away from his staff.
"We gotta rat. There has to be a leak. In my office. You done good John." Lansky's speech had slipped back into his early New York days. "Question is, who."
"Any ideas Meyer?"
"Could be any of a dozen people. We got another question. The coke we know about, the people down south will sell their grandmothers. But the H? The Turks aren't going to screw us over, so where is that H coming from?"
"You might not like this, but there is one group who can help." Lansky raised an eyebrow. "The Federation of Bungling Idiots back on the mainland. They give our people back there a real hard time, analyzing stuff and tracking sources. They could analyze the stuff we picked up and tell us where it came from. If they wanted to."
Lansky thought for a second. The families working here on Cuba had grown used to the environment where nothing was actually illegal. Most of them had forgotten what ‘the life' was like back on the mainland. They'd forgotten what it was like to have law enforcement trying to make cases against them. That was why all the smart money had come to Cuba. The American end of family business was now a mixture of a training ground for wiseguys and a dumping ground for the fourth rate who didn't warrant a share in the financial wonderland of Cuba.
The FBI could help the mob on Cuba but why should they? It was reputed that the director of the FBI was one of the strongest voices urging that the United States invade and ‘straighten the island out.' No danger of that of course, any administration that tried to do something to America's favorite playground would never get another vote.
"Won't go to them direct. I know a guy in the Secret Service, the one I met on my last trip. Good kid, his grandfather was one of Moran's boys back in the old days. He's investigating the Senate shooting and this ties in somehow. It's too neat to be coincidence. I'll take another "Presidential' trip over and ask the Secret Service to get this done for us. Their job is Presidential Security, they'll do it. Dapper John, I want you to have a word with the Lucchese. One of his hotels is about to run short of H."
"The Lucchese family is having problems with supply Meyer."
"I know. That makes it credible. We'll make the records look like a different hotel in each case. Then see what flushes out."
"There's a hitch, Meyer, the lists don't give hotels by name; they each have a two or three-letter code. We'll have to identify which hotel corresponds to which code."
"That makes it harder, not impossible. John, you've done good so far, Brought a lot of credit on your Don. Think up a plan and get it underway. You can get more of those lists?"
"We can. The louse we picked up told us the how and when."
"Then do it." Lansky sighed. "You know, I never liked Washington."
Seer's Office, National Security Council Building, Washington D. C. "
Take my advice, stay out of this one."
"But we have a treaty, one we need more than our partners."
"I know, but it doesn't apply in this case. Look, Snake, back at the time of Jungle Hammer, we told you that your military cooperation arrangements were deficient. That's inevitable; the Triple Alliance is just what its name says, an alliance, and they're weak almost by definition. What you can do is the lowest common denominator that will be accepted by all three partners. At the same time, you're trapped by what they do. Why do you think we don't have alliances and don't get tangled up in multi-national agreements?"
"You have Russia.'
"Indeed we do and it's a weakness that worries me. However, the benefits we get from the Russian alliance outweigh the trouble it causes us.
"The Triple Alliance benefits us more than it costs. And the treaty is still there."
The Seer sighed quietly to himself. That was the trouble with helping somebody out once, they kept expecting you to do it again. "It doesn't apply. The Triple Alliance is a mutual defense treaty, if one member is attacked, the others come to its aid. Note the words ‘if one member is attacked'. It's quite arguable that India did the attacking here. Look, we built you a Permanent Military Council to stop this sort of thing happening. What went wrong?"
"It's not a joint operation. The Indians went ahead and did it by themselves."
"And what do they want you to do? As if I couldn't guess."
"They want us to use our TSR-2s to hit the Chipanese bases on Hainan. They're in range, that's no problem."
"And you know what the immediate response will be, don't you? The Chipanese will hit your airbases - and quite rightly so. Doesn't worry us, we'll watch and learn how the Chipanese plan such things. But you won't have an air force left."
"We have air defenses.'*
"Snake, you have fewer air defense assets in your whole country than we have around one of our major cities. If you don't believe me, I'll take you to see. You hit the Chipanese and they'll take your entire air force out. If you're lucky. If you're not, they won't stop there. You've got to stay out of this one."
It was The Ambassador's turn to sigh. "How? We have treaty obligations. It's not our fault; for years India was run by the Congress Party and they knew what was happening and why. Since the last elections, its being run by the Hindu Nationalists and they want to flex their muscles a bit. It's not a mistake Sir Martyn would ever have made and I'd guess Eric Haohoa is chewing his fingernails to the knuckles over there but it's done. We've got to have help. If you send a carrier group or two into the South China Sea....."
"Why should we do that? There's no vital American interest at stake here. We're watching the situation and that's all. You've already been outmaneuvered on this one. The Chipanese have defined the area of conflict and publicly promised to confine the fighting to the disputed area. You spread it outside that area and it's you who are in the wrong. If you want to bomb anything, find something in that area and pound that."
"There isn't anything."
"Right. Like I said, you've been outmaneuvered. Those B10N Harrys have changed the regional equation. We knew the Japanese Navy was playing with a theater-level medium bomber but we didn't know they were this close to putting it into full-scale operational service. By doing so they've pulled a very slick, very deft piece of political maneuvering. First they demonstrate that they can hit the Indians from outside the area of conflict, leaving the Triple Alliance with nothing you can do to retaliate. Then they piously send around a diplomatic message that limits both the scope of the conflict and sets out the geographical limitations of the combat zone. That keeps us out. We've made it clear we want a peaceful world and if nations want to get involved in a conflict, they'd better make very sure it is fought under exactly those limitations.
"
"You sound like you admire them."
"I do, I admire anybody who plays the game this deftly. They've left you holding the bag and without any options that won't leave you worse off than when you started. Anyway, you need to look at this situation from a different perspective. Your opposition here isn't Chipan, its India."
"Wha. . . a ... at" The Ambassador was genuinely astonished.
"Who else's actions have put you into an impossible position? They've gone ahead and dropped you in it with a vengeance. You've woken up earlier because your closer but the Australians will look at a map soon and realize they've been dropped in it as well. So they're the opposition here that has to be thwarted.
"Now. Do you still want our help? And it will, I promise, cost you."
"I thought you said you wouldn't get involved."
"We won't. We can get you off the hook though. State is going to release the following statement: The United States views with concern the outbreak of hostilities in the South China Sea and will take the most serious of views should any party to the dispute spread the conflict beyond its present confines. In the interests of international harmony, the United States offers its full support to any parties who act to bring about a peaceful solution to this situation.
"That gives you the perfect excuse to refuse to join the conflict because you now have reason to believe that, if you try, the Chipanese won't take your Air Force out. We will. That's a risk that no government can reasonably be expected to take. But, this also gives you the opportunity of offering to act as a peaceful intermediary. That's as far as we're prepared to go."
"You wouldn't really bomb us would you?" The Ambassador was shaken by the concept.
"You don't want to know the answer to that question Snake. As long as you don't know, the threat hanging over you is very credible. All you need to do is to tell the Indians the Americans won't allow you to do what they ask and have threatened dire consequences if you ignore our ‘advice.' Then tell them you can help them more by trying to act as an honest broker and make the Chipanese look bad. As for the Indians, they wanted to flex their muscles, now they have the chance. I hope they enjoy the experience. It can get very cold and lonely out on the sharp end."
"And what is this going to cost us?"
"A free run at your intelligence coming in on the political and military affairs in Chipan and everything you've got on Caliphate biological and chemical warfare programs. Also an intelligence rundown on what's happening in Indonesia. Snake, lessons in geopolitics are worth exactly what you pay for them. And I've just charged you top dollar."
Sitting outside the office, Lillith was typing up some memos and the results of the office sweepstake. She looked up as The Ambassador stopped by her desk on the way out. "Lillith, could you kindly contact The Cheesecake Factory and order me a 16 inch white chocolate and raspberry? To be delivered to my hotel? Thank you so much."
Lillith looked at the departing figure and picked up her telephone. "Naamah, is Tommy Blood in the Building? If you see him, tell him he won the sweepstake. And, boy, is she not happy."
CHAPTER FIVE: MEETING ENGAGEMENT
HIJMS Aoba, Flagship, South China Sea Squadron, Haiphong, Japanese Indochina.
The motion of the ship was quite different now she was heading out to sea. Trapped within the confines of the harbor for so long, she'd seemed idle and listless. Heading down the channel leading the squadron with a bone in her teeth and her twelve 6.1 inch guns elevated to 70 degrees, she seemed urgent, eager, glad to be free of the land at last. Two ship lengths behind her, the Asama was also picking up speed as she cleared the restricted lane and followed Aoba into cruising speed.
Behind them, long and low, sliding through the sea with the same stealthy menace as venomous snakes through grass, were the rocket cruisers, Yashima and Asahi. One of the things that had delayed the squadron's departure was that their nuclear tipped long-range anti-ship missiles had been off-loaded and replaced with conventionally-headed versions. There had been hard words spoken about that, hard and enraged, but the logic was indisputable. If somebody threw a nuclear-tipped weapon, the Americans would erase that country from the face of the earth. They'd made their position very clear. They weren't interested in this conflict, they didn't care who held a group of unimportant little islands in a sea in which they had equally little interest. As long as the fighting stayed contained to a small area where nobody else was involved or threatened, the Indians and the Japanese could kill each other as much as they liked.
Admiral Kurita stepped onto the bridge wing and stared through his binoculars at the rest of his fleet. Eight Kawari class missile destroyers were screening his cruisers. He'd decided to leave the four old Type Bs in port. Two of them had broken down while being readied for the sortie and the other pair were only being kept running by sheer force of habit. They could break down at any time and the oil in their tanks was better placed elsewhere. Oil had been the problem all along, the terrible shortage of oil. His ships had been pinned in port, unable to move while oil fuel trickled in and slowly filled his tanks. That had given the Indians time to dive in and grab Pattle Island and start building their base there.
Kurita left the open wing and looked around his bridge. The Indians had got to Pattle first, but they'd paid for their temerity. The B10Ns in Hainan had been pounding them for a week now and the Japanese Navy pilots were becoming heroes to a people and a fleet that had badly needed heroes to believe. Their first strike had got in clean and reports were that it had inflicted terrible damage on the Indians. The follow-ups hadn't done as well; the Indians had dispersed and dug in while two B10Ns had been shot down by the Indian Navy's missiles, but they'd succeeded in bringing the work on Pattle to a standstill.
Now it was time for the real punch, the heavy blow from the fleet. The two rocket cruisers would eliminate the Indian squadron defending the island. That would allow the two gun cruisers to pound the garrison into oblivion. Then, the SNLF could land and take what was left. Leaving the nuclear weapons behind was a wrench but Kurita recognized the brilliance of the move. By doing so, and by publicly limiting the battlezone to a small area, the Japanese had lured the Americans into effectively holding the ring for the Japanese Navy. The Japanese bases in Indochina and Hainan were safe. If the Japanese Navy couldn't use nuclear weapons, nor could the Indians.
At first, the Japanese Navy bases in Indochina had been on alert, waiting for the Thai TSR-2s to retaliate for the bombing of Pattle Island but it hadn't happened. The Thais had stayed out, claiming that the Americans had warned them of the most serious consequences that would result if they'd launched the strikes. When American strategists spoke of "most serious consequences" they only meant one thing and nobody blamed the Thais when their TSR-2s stayed at home. Their Arrows were trying to provide some cover to the troops on Pattle but so far, without success. The range was too long, the response time too great and the time on station too short.
Overhead, Navy J12Ks orbited to provide cover, their weirdly-swept wings gleamed in the noon light. They were his air cover now, but they wouldn't be around for long. Their endurance was too short, they gulped too much fuel. Once out of sight of land, he would have to depend on his missiles for protection. Well, that wasn't too bad. He had ten quadruple mounts for Nodachi surface-to-air missiles on his ships. They would be enough to provide a good firepower defense against air attack. Not that his two gun cruisers were entirely helpless, their 15.5 centimeter twin turrets were dual purpose after all.
It wasn't as if he had a carrier to worry about. One of the two Indian carriers was in drydock with machinery problems and would be for months. The other was coming around from the East Coast but wouldn't be in for days. That set the time limit for this operation. The Indians had to be ejected from Pattle and a Japanese garrison put in place before that carrier arrived. The moment it did and the Indians had fighter aircraft on scene, it would be too late.
Behind the cruisers, the eight destroyers started to move f
orward. Soon, they would be in their proper place, four in a picket line out in front, one on each side of the cruiser column, two behind. Then, they would launch their helicopters to provide search and targeting for the Kabuto anti-ship missiles. It was time to reverse the humiliation of 1959 and the two rocket cruisers were just the ships to do it.
INS Mysore. Off Pattle Island, Paracel Group, South China Sea
The troopships had arrived at last and were unloading on an atoll ringed by Indian warships. The anti-aircraft missile units had landed first. Now that the batteries were fully set up, each of the six land-based Jabiru launchers was ringed by three point-defense MOG-2 launchers and three radar-controlled twin 35mm BOER guns. Their radars were in place as well; long-range surveillance sets as well as target acquisition systems and fire control. If the B10N Harry bombers came back, they wouldn't get the clear run they had been enjoying all week. If they came tonight, they'd have a reception waiting for them they would not forget in a hurry. Already, the radars were probing the gathering dusk, searching for the swing-wing bombers to appear.
That was just the start, it would take days to unload the fat-bellied transports. Artillery, tanks, engineering equipment, troops, supplies and more supplies to replace the ones destroyed by the bombing raids. There were no port facilities here on Pattle and the heavy equipment was being shipped off one at a time. Too many landing craft had been lost to make the process a fast one. The APDs had brought twelve but only three of them were left; the rest had been destroyed by bombs or fire. The main body had brought more, but not enough. There just weren't enough, not in the whole of India, to unload this fleet quickly. Quietly Admiral Kanali Dahm cursed the politicians who'd pushed this idea through without thinking of the resources that were needed to make it work. It wasn't the obvious ones that were the problem. It was the things nobody really saw, like port facilities on a deserted atoll.