by Harold Coyle
Slowly Stahl, still looking at Dixon, began to nod his head. Then he turned to face the mayor. "It is the right of every German commander to decline an order that, based on his assessment, is not appropriate for the situation that the commander is faced with. This freedom to act according to his judgment, and not blind obedience, is the true Prussian military tradition." Looking over to Dixon, but still speaking to the mayor, Stahl continued. "I have been ordered to deter aggression. I intend to order my subordinate commanders to be vigilant and ready to protect the German people and property against any hostile acts, though at this time reports indicate that no hostile acts have been committed in this military region." Standing up, Stahl looked down at the mayor and smiled. "The Americans are guilty of conducting road and rail movements throughout this area without proper authority. That, however, is a civil and not a military matter. While the appropriate agencies of our governments address this issue, I urge the civilian and police authorities to cooperate with the Americans to ensure that damage to property and danger to the public is minimized."
Dixon, who had also risen, maintained his composure as he finished the meeting by offering the attachment of a liaison party to Colonel Stahl's headquarters in order to facilitate communications and resolve any "difficulties" that might arise while the Tenth Corps was in his area. Stahl, taking Dixon by the arm, agreed as he turned and walked out of the room, leaving the mayor and the other civilian and police officials little choice but to follow the Army's lead.
Carefully unwrapping the last replacement computer circuit board from its protective covering, Sergeant Martin Hofer laid the fragile bundle of microchips on the stand, ready for the maintenance officer's inspection. Finished, he allowed the plastic wrapping to fall to the floor. "There, Captain Haupt," Hofer proclaimed with a flourish, "that is the last of them. There isn't another replacement board in all of Bavaria."
Looking up from the test equipment he had been fooling with, Captain Karl Haupt looked over at the bench where all the circuit boards that coordinated the fire-control system of the squadron's Tornado fighter-bombers sat, each board perched on its own stand and awaiting his check. "Thank you, Martin. Now go along and get something to eat."
Looking at the long line of circuit boards and then at Haupt, Hofer began to protest. "But if you try to check all of these out yourself, we will never be able to reinstall them in time. I heard that the squadron commander wants to be in the air at first light. Without a functional fire-control system, the squadron's aircraft will be useless."
Haupt didn't bother looking up as he continued to fiddle with the dials of the test equipment. "It will not take me long to do what I must do. There is nothing at this moment that you can do to help. Now go along and don't worry about the squadron commander. I will explain my actions to him when I am finished."
Not understanding why his captain was refusing his help, Hofer nevertheless shrugged and left the room. As he left the maintenance hangar, Hofer noted that the sun had not even begun to appear and already they had put in a full day's work. Pulling the circuit boards at the insistence of Haupt had taken time. Gathering the replacement circuit boards from other Tornado squadrons and the wing maintenance supply depot had taken longer. Putting them back, Hofer knew, would take just as long. Still, he was only a sergeant. Though he didn't understand the need for pulling perfectly good boards out of a system that checked out in the aircraft just to make a visual and detailed electronic bench check, his captain no doubt had a good reason. And if he didn't, then it was the captain's ass and not his that would be splattered on the runway by their commander. Once Hofer was gone, Haupt walked over to the door and locked it. Turning around, he looked at the neat row of circuit boards suspended on little stands and ready to be hooked up to the electronic test unit. Taking a deep breath, Haupt reminded himself that he had his duty to perform and that there was little time. Walking over to a workbench, Haupt opened a tool drawer and reached in, pulling out a ball-peen hammer. Taking the hammer firmly in his right hand, Haupt walked up to the table where the circuit boards sat and began smashing them one at a time with his hammer. Convinced that Chancellor Ruff was wrong and that his actions against the Americans would only lead to misery for the German people, Haupt had decided that morning to do whatever he could to stop Germany from sliding back into the dark abyss. While he knew his actions wouldn't stop those who were determined to destroy his homeland, Haupt hoped that his actions would cause some of his fellow Luftwaffe officers to stop and rethink what they were doing. If nothing else, Haupt knew in his heart that he was right. Whatever became of him, he would have a clear conscience and the knowledge that he had taken a stand.
CHAPTER 11
17 JANUARY
The more Jan Fields-Dixon scrolled through the endless crop of news stories on her desktop computer monitor, the more confused she became. Like most major news agencies, World News Network subscribed to practically every domestic and foreign news and wire service in the world. The stories from these other news agencies were made available to the correspondents, producers, editors, researchers, and supervisors of World News through its interoffice computer network. Since it represented the most current and accurate information available, the staff of World News Network used that information from other agencies to alert them to developments in the world that they were not aware of, as background or auxiliary information to their own stories, and as a measure of the relative importance a particular news story or view was receiving, allowing them to adjust their own reporting efforts. Other news agencies, as well as the national intelligence agencies and the Department of Defense, tapped into the vast pool of information made available by modern communications for the same reasons.
While all the information available that morning substantiated the claim by the President of the United States, including General Big Al Malin's own statements, Jan knew in her heart that something was wrong with the picture that was being flashed around the world from Germany. While his actions made sense, and the statements released by the Tenth Corps information officer supported those actions, Jan knew that Big Al was incapable of leading an armed insurrection that would be so blindly followed by the officers of the Tenth Corps. She didn't question his ability to lead. She had seen that quality herself in Fort Hood, Texas, when her husband, Scott, was Big Al's operations officer. Scott himself, a person who was not easily impressed, had always spoken of Big Al's dedication to duty and leadership in terms of admiration bordering on awe. So when President Wilson began to paint Big Al as an outlaw and the news media labeled him America's twenty-first-century Benedict Arnold, Jan began to wonder how she and Scott could have been so wrong about Big Al.
That self-doubt, however, slowly began to disappear. At first Jan had started looking for some clue that would explain why a man like Big Al Malin would turn his back on his sworn duty and so endanger his command without the full support of his nation. But instead of finding answers and understanding, Jan just found more questions. Though everything taken in isolation seemed to make sense, when Jan put it together, it didn't come together into a nice neat bundle. With her intimate knowledge of what she often referred to in a half-joking manner as the military mentality as well as personally knowing several of the prime players in Washington and Germany, the story line handed out by the White House and the Department of Defense fell way short. Convinced that she was onto something, but that the raw news stories being dumped out onto her computer screen didn't contain the answer, Jan decided it was time to work her sources. While she left a story about German reaction from the Reuters news agency on the screen, Jan reached over, grabbed her phone, and dialed Ed Lewis's office number from memory.
When Jan was told by a staffer that Lewis was at an important meeting and wouldn't be available until noon, she asked to speak to Lewis's secretary, Terri Allen, rather than Lewis's assistant. Terri, who often knew more about what was going on in Lewis's office than Lewis himself, was the friendly type that got along well with just abo
ut everyone. If Jan was going to find out where Lewis was so that she could contact him before she finished preparing her program notes for the day, Terri, and not Lewis's male assistant, would be the person to talk to. After her call was routed to Terri's desk, Jan started the conversation in her usual casual manner. "Hi, Terri, this is Jan. I hate to bother you at a time like this, but I really need to talk to Ed as soon as possible. Is it possible for you to tell me how I can get ahold of him or transfer my call to where he is?"
Terri, with a hint of a Tennessee back-country accent, sighed. "Oh, gee, Jan, I'm sorry, dear. I'd love to, but Ed has been at the White House since six this morning, in the War Room, I think. He can call us but we can't seem to call him. The best I can do is to leave a message with the White House switchboard and hope that the Cro-Magnon security people there will get it to the right person sometime this century."
Ordinarily Terri's humorous comments about the White House staff would bring a smile to Jan's face. Today, however, it caused her to pause and think. If Lewis had been in the War Room that early and was still there, that meant that he would have been present for the early-morning update briefing, which, Jan knew, was a ritual for the military while operations were under way. This small shred of information served only to heighten Jan's feeling that there was more to what was going on than was being told. In an effort to get as much information as she could from Terri, Jan decided to subtly probe further. "I can't imagine Ed, who's probably madder than hell with the President, sitting that long with her. I mean, he's been blaming her for this whole mess."
There was an "oh, don't worry" manner in Terri's voice when she responded. "Well, to tell you the truth, Jan, we're all a little taken aback here by the way he's taking all of this. As a matter of fact, last night he went home early, and with a smile on his face."
"Well, I guess he has the right to gloat. Ed did, after all, predict that the President's plan was dumb and would lead to no good."
Terri hastened to correct Jan. "Oh, he's not gloating, Jan. I've seen Ed gloat. No, this is different. It's..." Terri paused. When she did continue, Jan noted that her voice betrayed a little concern. "You know, Jan, it's almost as if he was satisfied with the way things are going. You don't suppose he's up to something, do you?"
Though Jan suspected just that, she put Terri off and covered her tracks. She had gotten about all she could from Terri. "Ed working with the administration and smiling? No, too much to expect. Well, I've got another call coming in, Terri. Got to go."
"Do you want Ed to call you when he comes up for air?"
Jan, not wanting Ed to get wind that she was snooping about, for Lewis would know what Jan was up to, told Terri, no, that it wasn't necessary and then hung up. Glancing over to two battery-operated clocks on the corner of her desk, one set to Eastern Standard Time and the other Central European Time; she saw that it was midafternoon in Germany and time for the American broadcast of the World News Network early-morning news show. Turning in her chair, she took the remote control unit that controlled the TV monitor that always seemed to be on in her office and cleared the mute button, allowing her to hear the top news stories of the hour. While she still mulled the question of what Ed Lewis was up to, Jan watched her morning-show counterpart run through the news of the morning. Nothing that he said made Jan feel any better or clarified the murky and disjointed drama that Jan saw unfolding in Central Europe.
Even the Germans themselves, sitting right in the middle of the crisis, seemed to be confused about what was going on and what to do. While the Chancellor's office in Berlin was pronouncing that a virtual state of war existed between Germany and the United States because of the "invasion," a majority in the Bundestag, or German Parliament, were demanding that the Chancellor curb his reaction to what they referred to as the "current American operations" in Germany. This divergence in views, the World News commentator pointed out, was not confined to Berlin. Based on stories from the German media as well as other crews in Germany covering the story, he reported that the population was divided on how best to react. Though reservists had been recalled to active duty, the commentator noted that early indications based on CIA reports showed that the response to these recalls had been very light. A Berlin newspaper pointed out that the confusion and conflict between the Chancellor's office and the Bundestag was to blame for this. That, the commentator pointed out, was substantiated by incidents throughout what one Munich newspaper editor was referring to as the "liberated" zone of Germany.
One incident, filmed in Nuremberg that morning by a WNN news crew following American forces, was telling. As Jan watched, the news correspondent explained how life in the city continued to go on despite the presence of American forces flowing out of the Czech Republic and staging for General Malin's announced march to the sea. At one train station, where he was filming the manner in which the citizens of Nuremberg were carrying on, a group of four German reservists in uniform and responding to the recall came onto the train platform to wait for their train. Almost immediately, and without any apparent prompting, several German civilians began taunting the German reservists. Unsure as to what to do, the reservists began to back away from the angry civilians. Their line of retreat, however, was blocked by other civilians who joined in condemning the confused reservists. Surrounded and in danger of being mobbed, the reservists had no choice but to stand their ground.
Just when it seemed that the verbal abuse would turn physical, two American military police, one male and one female, fully armed and in complete battle gear, came running down the train platform and began to work their way through the crowd. Parting reluctantly, the angry crowd allowed the Americans through. Once they reached the German reservists, the American MPs escorted the embarrassed reservists off the platform and to safety. As the television camera watched, the little parade of two American MPs protecting their erstwhile enemy marched out of the station followed by determined civilians who shouted angry words and shook their fists at the German reservists who represented to them the Berlin government's unjustified harsh and provocative actions. One civilian, speaking to the correspondent after the crowd had dispersed on their morning commute to work, summarized the view of his fellow protesters. "We have no argument with the Americans. They were wrong to bring the bombs to Germany. That was not proper. But that does not justify what that fool in Berlin, Herr Chancellor Ruff, is doing. It's crazy, just crazy, to turn our country into a battlefield just to teach the Americans a lesson.
Let the politicians in Berlin come down here and fight if they want to. We just want to be left alone in peace."
Turning down the volume, Jan sat and looked at the television with a vacant stare while she thought about that story and allowed it to flow together with the bits of information she had gleaned from Terri and her own feeling that things were not what they seemed or were being reported as. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that her feeling, what old-time newsmen would call a gut feeling, was right. The military and the administration were up to something and they had no intention of telling anyone. In fact, Jan began to realize, there was the real possibility that the media, including her, were being manipulated in an effort to cover up some kind of operation aimed at saving American face and prestige or even, she thought, retrieving the weapons that the Germans had taken from the Air Force. That something was going on was to Jan a sure thing. What exactly it was, she could only guess.
For her, a savvy correspondent who had more than earned and re-earned her reputation for intelligence and journalistic skill and for meeting all challenges head-on, what to do with this revelation was the question. There was no hint in any of the stories jamming the news agencies that morning that anyone suspected that the situation wasn't as it seemed. Even the military "experts" and experienced correspondents crowding the WNN studios that morning didn't betray any sign that they saw anything beyond the immediate surface of the unfolding drama in southern Germany. Only she, Jan Fields-Dixon, seemed to see past the he
avy official curtain that hid the true meaning of the actions shown on her nineteen-inch television monitor. But just as that knowledge pleased her, it also troubled her. Had this been another story in another part of the world involving different actors, she would have had no problem running her hunches and suspicions to ground until she had a story that would tear away the curtain of secrecy that she suspected hid the truth.
But this story involved the Tenth Corps, an organization led by a man she knew personally and to which her lover and husband belonged. What would happen, she thought, to Scott and his command if she was right about the conspiracy and a news story that she put together compromised it? Would her action save Scott from another foolish plan doomed to fail or would it condemn that venture to ultimate failure? Was it her duty to push a story that if true would further enhance her reputation, under the guise of defending the public's right to know the truth? Or did her first duty lie in allowing the suspected deception to continue without comment so that Scott and the tens of thousands of soldiers with him in Germany could carry on with their tasks? It came down, Jan realized, not to a question of what was truth and lie, or what was right and wrong, but to a question of responsibility.