Honorable Enemies (1994) (10 page)

Bryce Mellongard was a straitlaced, no-nonsense reforme
d s
moker who was known for his leadership abilities and attention to detail. Tall and reed-thin, he always wore a dark-gray suit and white shirt with a narrow, conservative tie.

Mellongard had made a career of positioning himself to fill the next-higher vacancy. He was a master of the game, a master who had a seemingly supernatural instinct for knowing exactly when the opportunity was ripe to move up a notch.

From the ranks of a midlevel civilian manager in the Pentagon, he steadily climbed the ladder. Always managing to showcase himself, then switch boats before the previous one began leaking, Mellongard carefully and skillfully worked his way through the treacherous rapids.

Now the wily, silver-haired veteran of the bureaucratic wars had reached his zenith: Secretary of Defense. Mellongard knew that being SECDEF could be a springboard to much bigger things. He just needed to slide through this obligation without committing any major blunders.

His biggest fear was that the unstable geopolitical situation would force the U
. S
. military into a position that could lead to catastrophic consequences. Even though Mellongard was a savvy political climber, he was honest with himself and knew his own limitations.

The chauffeur was just pulling away from the White House when Mellongard spotted Senator Frank Brazzell, the Chairman of the House Armed Services Committee. The trim, stylishly dressed senator was motioning for Mellongard's driver to stop.

Mellongard swore under his breath before he told the chauffeur to pull Over. Brazzell walked up to the Continental and Mellongard lowered the window.

"Bryce, I'm glad I caught you," the Senator said hastily. "I need to discuss an urgent matter with you, if you've got a couple of minutes."

Mellongard knew that in Brazzell's time frame, a couple of minutes meant at least an hour of lobbying for his latest crusade. "Frank, I've got an appointment at the Pentagon," he sai
d h
astily and glanced at his watch. "Let's set up something for the first of next week, okay ?"

Brazzell was not one to be placed on hold. "It'll only take a few minutes--I promise." He didn't give the Secretary a chance to answer. "In fact I'll ride over with you and then grab a cab back."

"Okay," Mellongard replied stiffly and reluctantly slid across the seat while Brazzell stepped into the car and quickly shut the door.

"Thanks."

"What's on your mind, Frank?"

"I'll get right to the point," Brazzell answered while the driver edged into the flow of traffic. "I've got all the ducks in order up on the hill, but I need you to apply some leverage on the President."

"You're talking about the carrier?"

They had had previous conversations about giving the Japanese the next U
. S
. aircraft carrier that was scheduled for decommissioning. The Japanese had asked for a large-deck carrier, ostensibly to be used as an antisubmarine warfare ship, but the last Administration had quietly rebuffed them.

"Absolutely," Brazzell shot back in his boldly confident manner. "Politically, the time is ripe for us to calm the waters and show some real confidence in the Japanese government. At the same time we can smooth some of the ruffled feathers about all this terrorist crap.

"I'm telling you," Brazzell went on without missing a beat
,
"that we're going to blow a major opportunity if we don't mak
e t
he announcement now and follow through with our promise.

Let's give them the next carrier on the list instead of turning i
t i
nto a floating museum or cutting it up for the scrap dealers."

Mellongard let his head rest on the back of the seat. "Frank,"

he sighed heavily, "they've laid the keel for their second carrier.

You know that's in violation of Article Nine of the constitutio
n t
hey are supposed to enforce. I think we should forget the idea."

The Secretary was referring to Article 9 of the post-World
War II Japanese constitution that had been developed by General Douglas MacArthur and accepted and promulgated by the first postwar Diet.

The constitution included a thirty-one-article bill of rights, and Article 9 was the key to the foundation of the new Japanese government. Article 9 renounced war as a "sovereign right of the nation" and pledged that "land, sea and air forces, as well as other war potential, will never be maintained."

"Bryce," the Senator said patiently, "come on. We're well past that stage of the game. Besides, we've been encouraging them to provide their own defense for a long time, so why not help them?"

Brazzell waited for a response, but Mellongard remained silent. It was an old argument and the Secretary didn't want to discuss Japan and her burgeoning military power.

"Bryce, hear me out on this," Brazzell persisted. "You guys in the Puzzle Palace can't have it both ways. You tell the Japanese government to develop a stronger Self-Defense Force because we don't want to spend the money and use our assets to defend them."

Mellongard gave a warning look and Brazzell shifted to a softer approach. "Then, after conditioning them to that spiel, you question whether we should give them an old, worn-out carrier?"

"Senator," SECDEF countered and stared him down, "you know that's an oversimplification of the situation. Any of our carriers--even an older one--has the capability to project power anywhere around the globe."

Mellongard paused to gather his thoughts. "Frank, a seventythousand-ton carrier isn't what I would classify as self-defense technology."

"Sure it is," Brazzell shot back, remembering his discussion with the Japanese multibillionaire. The businessman had explained that Japan wanted to use the retired U
. S
. carriers for antisubmarine-warfare patrols. "They can use it for ASW work, and it's a great platform for rescue helos and reconnaissance aircraft."

The Secretary remained quiet and looked out the window.

"Bryce," the Senator gently prodded, "the Japanese are building their own blue-water carriers. China and North Korea scare the hell out of them, and they aren't going to sit around and twiddle their thumbs while they wait to get nuked again."

Mellongard bristled and turned to face Brazzell. "That's the goddamn point, Frank. They've gone from a total armed force of a quarter million men in '93 to well over one million in uniform today. They're building their own heavy battle tanks, armored personnel carriers, and artillery pieces."

Observing the restlessness in Brazzell's eyes, Mellongard carefully measured his words. "They've rapidly amassed a navy of over two hundred ships, including eighteen Aegis-equipped destroyers that are clones of our Arleigh Burke--class, and they've got a half-dozen new 767 AWACs, all while their economic and political upheavals are supposedly having a devastating effect on the country. Does that sound like a Self-Defense Force to you?"

Mellongard didn't wait for a response. "Frank, the Joint Chiefs are concerned. These Aegis ships are designed to provide protection for a carrier battle group, and they're building carriers that are designed for vertical takeoff and landing aircraft."

Both men shifted their eyes away from each other for a brief moment before the Defense Secretary turned to Brazzell.

"If they decide to preempt North Korea," Mellongard continued in a softer tone, "we don't want them to do it with one of our carriers."

"But I suppose we wouldn't mind if they clobbered North Korea with their own ships?" Brazzell countered while he planned his next avenue of strategy. He had to convince SECDEF to lobby for him, or the entire project would collapse, including his generous commission.

"You combine those ships," Mellongard observed, "with their twenty-eight submarines and support ships and you've got a world-class blue-water navy, not a coastal patrol. Add to that one of the largest ASW capabilities in the world, combined with an air force that has over seven hundred Japanese-made fighter planes, and we're talking about a major military power.

Mellongard looked straight ahead and took a deep breath. "Do you really think it's in our best interest to give them a carrier--even with the catapults removed--when our military is bare bones and getting smaller every day?"

"Yes. I honestly believe we should give them a carrier for ASW protection." Brazzell closely watched SECDEF for his reaction. "Especially for political reasons."

They remained quiet, each thinking about his own political interests.

"They'll have their own carrier soon enough," Mellongard finally said, "but they won't be launching the first one for another year or so." He didn't want to confront the issue on his watch.

"Don't bet on it," Brazzell calmly replied and shifted his gaze to the passing scenery. "The little shits are very industrious and motivated. Bryce, this is one hell of an opportunity to mend some fences."

"Let me think about it awhile," Mellongard answered with one of his classic maneuvers to consume time and obstruct issues, "and I'll get back to you."

Brazzell decided to use one of his hidden aces. "Bryce, we've been friends for a long time, and I'm telling you, for your own good, this is going to be a political coup."

Mellongard studied Brazzell's deeply set eyes. "There's more to this than politics, isn't there?"

"That's right," Brazzell admitted dryly and rubbed his thumb back and forth against his fingers. "Better than a gold mine."

SECDEF leaned forward and told the driver to pull over and stop near the Department of Interior. When the car came to a smooth stop, the two men got out and walked fifty feet away.

"Frank, you better level with me," Mellongard cautioned with his face set in a frown. "You owe me a big one, and don't forget it."

"I haven't forgotten." Brazzell smiled his thin smile. "I've got the votes lined up, and everyone cashes in if I have your support." He lowered his voice. "But you have to convince your man to go along with this."

Mellongard resented Brazzell's reference to the President as "your man," but the Senator had an uncanny ability to pull off surprises that no one could believe.

"Bryce, you're looking at a potential two million dollars in your personal portfolio if you can deliver. All you have to do is convince the man to play ball."

"I can't believe this," Marcus said after he finished reading about the crash landing at the Los Angeles International Airport. He sipped his orange juice and glanced at Steve. "Eyewitnesses, including two commercial pilots who have combat experience, swear they saw tracer rounds hit the airplane as it approached the runway."

"I don't doubt it," Steve replied as he poured syrup on his pancakes. "There are thousands of machine guns on the market--anything you want--for a price. You mix all the proper ingredients, throw in a wacko who is about a half bubble off center, and presto--you've got a lunatic out shooting at a Japanese airliner that's on final approach to LAX."

Wickham reached for his hot tea. * "Hell, most people would call that a normal day in Los Angeles."

Marcus shook his head. "It's crazy. This planet is being overrun by insane people."

"I think you're right," Steve declared while he accepted the paper from Callaway. "It's insidious, but day by day, year by year, decade by decade, this world is becoming more insane."

Wickham skim-read the front page and quietly placed it on the chair next to him. "The magnitude of these incidents with Japan is really frightening."

"No shit."

Steve gave Marcus a somber look. "It's much bigger than w
e i
magined, and I suspect things are going to get worse . because someone is really stirring the pot."

"Yeah," Marcus replied with a pained look on his face. "There's something going on," he trailed off, then caught Steve's eye. "Do you think that all of these incidents--the entire Japan/U
. S
. clash--are being orchestrated to take us from a trade war to a shooting war?"

Steve glanced toward Diamond Head before he faced Callaway. "Marcus, maybe I've become too cynical, but in this day and age, nothing surprises me anymore."

Callaway studied his colleague for a few seconds. "Well, tell me the truth and don't bullshit me. Is the CIA involved in this deal?"

"What?"

"Are you boys," Marcus asked and leaned back to study Wickham's expression, "trying to work us into a position to have a reason to kick the shit out of Japan?"

The question initially shocked Wickham until he took a moment to think about how plausible it sounded. It wouldn't be the first time the CIA had provoked a confrontation to enable the U
. S
. to take advantage of a situation.

"If the Agency was setting Japan up for a fall," Steve confided with an uneasy feeling, "I'd know about it."

"Are you sure?"

Steve chuckled and thought about his position at the Agency. His star was burning brightly, but he had a few more requirements to complete before he would be in a position to compete for the top post.