Vortex (44 page)

The
CIA
director knew when he’d made a mistake. He swiveled in his seat and took a folder bordered with red and white stripes from a silent aide.

He was careful to keep the folder turned so the label on the front was hidden.

Nicholson flipped the folder open and studied it carefully for a few moments.

“Our agents and monitoring stations in the Far East and northern

Pacific have noted significant increases in back-channel arms purchases.”

He arched an eyebrow at Forrester.

“Naturally, we’re always trying to track who sells and who buys what, but it’s a damned difficult task. Too many middlemen. Too much money. And too many foreign governments too willing to help the arms dealers keep a lid on their activities.”

Forrester nodded politely and motioned him onward.

“Both the North Koreans and Chinese have been making extra shipments of tanks, artillery, and surface-to-surface missiles-apparently in response to orders placed over the past several weeks. In and of itself, that’s not so unusual. Most of the weapons systems being sold are those Beijing and Pyongyang have sold in the past to regular customers like Iran.”

No surprise there. Both North Korea and China were cash poor and willing to sell weapons to anyone willing to pay.

Nicholson shrugged.

“Trouble is … we haven’t been able to spot the hardware arriving at any known transshipment point. ” He closed the folder and looked around the group.

“Now the equipment could simply still be in transit to a regular customer, or on hold in some third country until final transport can be arranged. ”

“But there is a chance these tanks, guns, and missiles are going to Cuba or Angola?”

“It’s not impossible, Mr. Vice President,” Nicholson conceded.

Charming. Castro evidently wasn’t content to rely solely on

Soviet-supplied weapons. And by expanding his sources of supply, the

Cuban dictator was also reducing Moscow’s leverage over his actions in southern Africa.

Forrester turned to the lean, square-jawed man in the next chair over.

Hamilton Reid, the secretary of commerce, had the relaxed, confident air that often went with old money invested wisely.

“The President’s also concerned about the economic effects of this damned crisis.”

“And wisely so.” Reid didn’t need to kowtow and didn’t bother trying.

“Prices for key strategic minerals like titanium, chromium, platinum, and the others are showing a steady rise. It’s mostly psychological, so far.

South Africa’s production hasn’t been affected by the fighting in

Namibia. If anything, Pretoria’s actually selling more than it normally would to finance these arms deals the director told us about. But the financial community’s never been entirely rational.”

Several of the men and women around the table laughed softly. They’d all seen the studies suggesting that random dart throws did a better job of forecasting the stock market than any other system.

The secretary of commerce acknowledged their laughter with a slight smile of his own.

“We’ve been working closely with the other major trading nations-especially the British and the Japanese-to do what we can. We’ve all been leaning on our respective commodities exchanges in an effort to slow things down, Highlevel briefings to show there’s no immediate supply problem. Temporary market closings when prices rise too fast. That sort of thing.”

His smile dimmed.

“All with only moderate success. Right now, the commodities exchanges are capable of handling these higher minerals prices. That may not last. There’s a kind of critical mass to these situations.”

Forrester nodded his understanding. In the past month alone, the

Strategic Commodities Index had shot up more than 30 percent. If the prices for key strategic minerals started climbing any faster, they could trigger a wave of panic buying-a kind of feeding frenzy that might send prices soaring through the roof. Scaremongers were already touting the possibility of 300 or 400 percent price rises.

And that could spell disaster for the United States, Great Britain, and almost every other industrialized nation in the world. The minerals largely supplied by South Africa, a few of its neighbors, and the Soviet

Union were vital to a wide range of industries-steel, oil refining, chemicals, and electronics to name just a few. Dramatically higher minerals prices would mean significantly higher production costs for jet engines, gasoline, computers, consumer electronics, and thousands of other products. That, in turn, could send a flood tide of higher prices, lower sales, and lost jobs surging through the economy.

Forrester frowned. Most Americans didn’t realize it, but much of their nation’s prosperity depended on a steady flow of reasonably priced minerals from overseas. Some of the percentages spoke for themselves-98 percent of all manganese, 92 percent of all chromium, and 91 percent of all the platinum-group metals consumed by American industry were imported. All told, the
U’S
. was critically dependent on foreign suppliers for twenty-two of the thirty-odd minerals government planners viewed as essential for industrial and defense needs. And America’s allies weren’t in much better shape. Preliminary figures showed the nation’s trade deficit and inflation rate both starting to climb again.

Forrester looked up at the rest of the
NSC
and ran his eyes over a roomful of newly gloom-filled faces.

“Right. We’re in something of an economic box. But we’re not alone. That’s why I’ve asked Hamilton to have his staff prepare an analysis of South Africa’s own economic picture.”

Reid didn’t bother with papers or projectors.

“Put simply, South Africa’s economy cannot survive the current situation. Pretoria is caught between an increasingly expensive foreign war and a steadily less productive domestic economy. Many of the country’s white workers are now in uniform, and those few skilled black laborers who might have replaced them are either dead, in prison, or barred from filling them. Nothing short of complete peace can significantly alter the situation. ”

The commerce secretary looked carefully from face to face.

“If conditions do not change, our analysis indicates we can expect a total South African economic collapse in less than a year. Even the harshest imaginable austerity measures can delay such a collapse by a year beyond that at most.”

The chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Air Force General Walter

Hickman, had been silent up to this point. As the commerce secretary paused, he broke in.

“I think that assessment may be a little extreme, Mr.

Vice President. I remember several predictions that Iran’s economy would completely collapse in the 1980s, during its war with Iraq. None of them came true. Massive inflation and unemployment, sure. But not total chaos.”

Reid showed no signs of being disturbed by Hickman’s disagreement.

“The difference, General, is that Iran’s population wholeheartedly supported the war with Iraq. Fanaticism can feed people for quite a while.” He shook his head slowly.

“But South Africa is much more divided-even the white community is split over Vorster’s racial policies and the Namibian war.

There is no one flag that everyone can rally around. ”

Hurley pressed hint.

“What exactly do you mean by ‘collapse’?”

“Reduced production from the mines and factories, followed by food and fuel shortages. At first, those shortages will only affect the poorest, most vulnerable segments of South Africa’s population-the blacks, coloreds,

Indians, and other nonwhite ethnic groups. But the country’s whites won’t be immune for long. As things get steadily worse, anyone who can leave, will-draining South Africa of the skilled people most needed to keep its economy running. ” Reid looked suddenly grim.

“In the final stages, we could expect widespread violence and looting-with daily death tolls that would make what we’ve seen so far look like a picnic. And add this factor-there is no country willing to come to South Africa’s aid, no source of outside assistance to stop a headlong slide into chaos.”

My God. Forrester winced at the horrific images conjured up by the commerce secretary’s matter-of-fact words. Idle, abandoned factories and shops. Burning homes. Floods of refugees fleeing starving cities. Bodies littering the streets. Genocide. Race war. Unbidden, the term popped into his brain-Armageddon in South Africa.

He turned to Hickman.

“General, could this goddamned war go on for this year or two the secretary’s talking about?”

Hickman nodded slowly, reluctantly.

“Yes, sir, easily that long. Barring internal collapse in either Cuba or South Africa, this could be another bloody stalemate. Neither side holds a clear military advantage. The communist forces are at the end of a long supply line, and Soviet-style logistics are nothing to brag about. Hell, we’d have trouble fighting down there ourselves!”

Hickman stared moodily at a wall map showing the world.

“On the other hand, South Africa’s increasingly isolated and bogged down in a racial mess of its own creation. ” He looked up at Forrester.

“Nope, Mr. Vice

President. As things stand now, these people can keep killing each other from now until doomsday without achieving much of anything.”

Hurley added the final kicker.

“And neither side has much reason to seek a political settlement. Having started this thing, Vorster can’t afford to settle for anything less than all of Namibia. And Castro’s pride won’t let him aim for anything less than driving every single Afrikaner back across the South African frontier. Every bit of international support he’s gained will disappear unless he ends the war with a clear victory.”

Forrester understood the implications. It was going to be a long war.

Worse than that, the conflict showed signs of spreading like a virus, affecting any country that bordered on South Africa or Namibia. The

United States could not afford to let that happen. Besides the economic considerations, the loss of life would be tremendous. America would have to act, and act effectively, or she would be blamed for her inaction.

Forrester tapped his notepad impatiently with his pen.

“All right, people, what can we do? The President is looking for specific recommendations.”

Nicholson spoke first.

“The Namibian invasion is the source of the problem.

Stop the war and things will loosen up. ”

Hurley countered, “That’s a noble sentiment, but how exactly do you propose we go about doing that soon enough to matter? It took eight years of trying and we never did pull the Iranians and the Iraqis apart. We don’t have that kind of time here.”

General Hickman snorted.

“The key to this situation is that bastard

Vorster. He’s the one who started this friggin’ Namibian war. Now we’ve gotta find a way to make him call it off.”

“I’d have better luck teaching my cat to tap-dance. ” Hurley replaced his tortoiseshell glasses.

“Hold on, Ed. The general may have something there.

Forrester sat back in his chair, head tilted up slightly toward the low ceiling.

“Vorster’s a stubborn son of a bitch, but he might listen to reason if we can find a way to cut him off at the knees. We know the military’s in good shape, but South Africa can’t go on fighting a foreign war if its civilian economy starts failing apart. ”

“You mean South Africa’s whites won’t be so interested in foreign conquests if they start going hungry,” Hurley said.

Forrester hesitated and then nodded.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.

Let’s speed up the process.”

It seemed strange to contemplate accelerating South Africa’s economic collapse in order to stave off a larger, bloodier catastrophe. Something like innoculating people with a weakened version of a deadly virus to protect them from the disease itself.

Forrester turned to the secretary of commerce.

“Hamilton, I’d like your people to prepare an analysis of South Africa’s greatest vulnerabilities.

Where can we really turn up the heat on these people? As a start, we’ll recommend to the President that we freeze South African assets in this country.

“I need something I can show the President within the week. Clear?”

The commerce secretary was obviously more comfortable with fixing an economy than fouling one up, but he nodded and took notes.

Forrester glanced around the crowded, suddenly silent table.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are no longer talking about simple sanctions. Those are designed to show a government how we feel, or as a mild form of coercion.

What we need is a hook we can sink into Vorster himself.” He bared his teeth.

“And I suspect the best kind of hook would be the threat that his own supporters will vote him out of office because they can’t work and can’t eat.”

He looked across the table at Nicholson.

“Chris, we may need to consider active measures by your people. Use Hamilton’s list as a starting point, but have your Covert Action folks put together their own ideas as well.

Again, we’ll need to see whatever they can put together
ASAP
.

The
CIA
director nodded once, his high forehead creased by a worried frown.

Covert operations were notoriously dangerous for any intelligence chief with political ambitions. Disgruntled political opponents and press cynics loved nothing better than to expose them to public scrutiny and congressional ridicule. Nicholson already knew that no covert action would survive the rigid test he planned to apply-risk of failure.

Hurley caught Forrester’s eye.

“I’d suggest additional consultations with some of our allies on these proposals. Especially with the United Kingdom.

It has substantial military and economic interests in the region. ” He glanced in Nicholson’s direction.

“It also has a top-notch intelligence service. They may even have data we’ve missed.”

The
CIA
director frowned slightly at that, but nodded his reluctant agreement.