The last few weeks had been particularly rough ones for the Ross campaign. There were three Presidential debates in this election cycle as was typical for every election cycle. The first had taken place in Charleston, South Carolina and had focused on domestic issues. It was by all measures a draw, Nate hammered home the Democratic plans for healthcare and education but Republican Brent Wayne had hammered home his tax cut proposal and his new, more conservative, family values platform. The thing about a draw in an election is that tie goes to the challenger, not the incumbent and Nate was the incumbent in this race.
After that debate had come the Vice Presidential debate. Senator Grier had scored a redeeming victory for the Democrats in that debate by trouncing his opponent, Governor Adams. The shift then went to the second debate which was a town hall forum. Nate demanded that he face questions that weren't vetted beforehand and so, Senator Wayne had to face the same scrutiny. Nate had fared very well in the town hall debate, his ability to master retail politics, made him a crowd favourite but he had still gotten hit by the silver bullet question regarding his position on the abortion question.
Being a Catholic, he naturally found the practice of aborting a foetus reprehensible. Being a Democrat, he also knew that his party held an almost monolithically pro-choice stance. Once again, he was walking the tight rope. He had drafted a stance that said, while he personally disagreed with the practice of abortion on demand, he would however veto any legislation that came across his desk which made the practice illegal as he believed that the matter fell under the judiciary's jurisdiction after the 1973 Roe .v. Wade decision.
Once again, he had toed the line; he had soothed the conscience of people in his own party while reaching out to independents and moderate Republicans. Of course the Republicans on the far right had accused him of not really taking any position at all and the extreme liberals on the far left of his own party had accused him of selling out his own party's values. FoxNews acclaimed that his poll numbers were in free fall, something which Charlie assured him was in fact not true. They were still within the margin of error of where they had been back in August.
Peach was in her eighth month and by now and she rarely went anywhere without her OB by her side. Nate and the kids were used to having Dr. Sandra Downey around to make sure that Nicole wasn't stressing herself. Nate had on his best Ralph Lauren suit and blue tie. His campaign staff was going over everything with him one last time. This was one debate that Nate didn't need last minute prep for, he'd had more then twenty years of preparation for this debate and now here he was, a week from election day with a firm but not completely solid lead in most of the swing states and the last debate four minutes away from commencement.
"Remember, keep your language simple but if you get an opportunity, don't hesitate to slam Wayne on points. Remember, passion is good, anger is bad, raise your voice if necessary but only if necessary. The people want to see a President, not a pundit; you have to seem above juvenile bickering." Charlie dusted the lint off of Nate's lapel.
"Or I could actually be above juvenile bickering." Nate answered. "For God's sake, Charlie, power down would you?" Nate cracked his fingers and moved toward the edge of the blue curtain.
"Sorry, boss, one week to election night, I've got to have a full travel schedule planned and see if I can shore up our leads in the southwest and Mississippi line." Charlie adjusted his glasses and looked over a few items on the sheet. Nate looked out into the audience with one eye peeking through the curtain. He saw his wife, children and his wife's doctor all sitting in the front row. "Alright boss, show time." Charlie gave Nate a pat on the back. "We'll be cheering for you."
"I hope so." Nate chuckled. He stood there waiting for the debate to begin.
"Hello, I'm Stuart Dunston, your moderator this evening and welcome to the third in our series of Presidential debates. Tonight's focus is foreign policy; the candidates will be asked questions by me, after which they will have ninety seconds to give their response. The candidates have agreed to a cross examination period where their answer will be scrutinized by the other candidate or myself. Ladies and gentlemen, join me in welcoming Senator Brent Wayne and Governor Nathan Ross." Stuart stood as the two men walked out from either side of the stage toward the middle.
Nate shook hands with Senator Wayne before each of them headed over to their respective podiums. The last debate of the 2008 Presidential election was about to begin.
0110 ZULU
THE PENTAGON WAR ROOM
ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA
Harm came through the doors into the war room. He had never seen the collective brass of the OpNavs office and the COMLANTFLT office in one room before, it was one hell of an impressive sight. It was also one hell of a terrifying sight because it meant that something was very wrong. The CNO was standing at the front of the room looking out at a giant almost holographic projection of the American Mediterranean. Harm saw Bax and the COMLANTFLT commander pouring over figured and stats in an opposite corner of the room. Oh yeah, something had definitely happened.
"What've we got?" Harm asked as he walked up to the front of the room.
"Katyusha rocket hit the port side of the USS Kauffman in the Eastern Med." Admiral Barris answered.
"If you think about it, it's interesting as hell, with the guidance system on that thing it's a surprise that they were able to hit anything at all." Bax came walking over.
"I don't see anyone expressing your level of amazement, Admiral Baxter." Barris was in his usual good mood Harm could see.
"Thank God they didn't hit the carrier or one of the amphibs. They might have hurt a lot more people." Harm blinked up at the screen. "How many casualties?"
"Five, two dead three wounded." Barris answered.
"Where did the missile come from?" Bax asked out of curiosity.
"Chuckie V had her AWACS in the air at the time. Missile came from Southern Lebanon. This shit wouldn't be happening if anyone at the UN had had balls a couple of years ago and sent people in there to forcefully disarm those fucking terrorists." Barris took off his USS Enterprise hat and ran his fingertips through his thinning hair. "Once AWACS picked up the launch, satellites traced the launch vehicle. Fucker ran all the way back to the Bekaa Valley."
"So, what's our recourse, Skipper?" Harm asked, looking at pictures of the Kaufmann on the screen.
"Kaufmann is limping back to NAS Wilson where she'll undergo repairs. I've got the VCNO meeting with the President right now to come up with a course of action." Barris looked at his two deputies. "Rabb, what would you suggest?" Barris turned toward his acting deputy.
"If we know the target, sir. I think we have Chuckie V send up an Alpha Strike and blow it to pieces. Strong message on a military target." Harm answered with a firm nod.
"Baxter, what do you think?" Barris turned his head toward the three star.
"I think we send in the SEAL team on board the USS Donald Cook. They can go in with their H&Ks and just blow the place and everyone in it to pieces." Bax answered with smugly raised eyebrow.
"What a surprise, the pilot thinks we should let aviators handle it and the SEAL thinks we should let a SEAL team handle it." Barris rolled his eyes. "God knows I don't want the Air Force to get this mission, the last thing I want is Top Gun washouts trying to clean our messes."
"Sir, the only way an Alpha Strike can guarantee that we hit the target is if we demolish the target and everything else around it." Bax interjected. "The Israelis do that when they go to war with the terrorists and it only pushes the Lebanese public more toward Hezbollah."
"If we send the SEAL team in, the helo will be detected from miles off and there's no way anyone will be there by the time the team gets there." Harm argued.
"Not if we HALO them." Bax's mouth was obviously on overtime.
"You want to HALO a SEAL team into hostile territory, in the middle of the night, miles from water, without a helicopter back up?" Barris eyed his deputy suspiciously, wondering if the young man had a screw loose.
"Not without one, sir, just a delayed one. If they're quite a few minutes behind the team then by the team is safely on the ground and beginning their sweep of the area. The helicopter will be in place to pick them up." Bax explained his plan.
"It's a risky plan, sir. The helicopter could get shot down before the SEAL team is done their sweep and then the SEALs would be stranded without an escape and we'd have an escalated conflict on our hands." Harm paused. "In a region of the world we once retreated from, no less."
"It's a good plan though and it's an almost surgically precise incision. We could be in and out without anyone ever knowing we were there." Barris raised his hand to his chin. "I'll call over to the White House and have the VCNO sell it to the President and SECDEF. The two of you are to remain here with everyone else and listen to the OpNavs comm. traffic. If anyone fucks up tonight, I want them hanging from a yardarm in my office by tomorrow morning." Barris headed for the door.
"Where's he going?" The Commander of the Atlantic Fleet asked,
"Coffee, you don't want to see Barris when he's gone a few hours without coffee." Harm joked and he gave Bax a fraternal pat on the shoulder with the clipboard he was holding. "You really think sending in a SEAL team is the way to go?"
"Harm, normally I wouldn't send guys into a hot zone unless it was absolutely necessary. The fact is, that an Alpha Strike is messy and it carries with it no deniability. People will see the after effects. We send in the SEALs, anyone who witnesses it will think they're Israelis and we will momentarily make a bad situation worse but no one will ever know we were there." Bax answered as he leaned on the back of a chair.
"You think this will only make things worse between Hezbollah and Israel for a moment?" Harm raised his eyebrows.
"I don't know, we'll let them sort it out though. Our only concern is that they learn one thing." Bax hinted.
"Yeah, don't fuck with the US Navy." Harm concluded and the two men returned their attentions to the screen.
0135 ZULU
UNIVERSITY OF TEXAS
AUSTIN, TEXAS
"Thank you for your remarks, Senator." Dunston had just concluded the discussion with regard to American participation in the World Trade Organization. "Alright, Governor Ross, in 1988 your senior thesis was published in the New Yorker Magazine, in your thesis you stated that 'with the developments in Eastern Europe it has become clear that the last remnants of the iron curtain are rusting and corroding. In the coming years, we will see the old Soviet Empire dragged kicking and screaming into the modern age and in their experience of democracy we will be able to evaluate the level of damage which more then seventy years of tyranny has done to their once noble and dignified Russian character.' Governor, based on recent evidence, what do you believe our policy should be toward Russia?"
"That's a very good question." Nate felt like such a tool participating in the political formalities. "What many pundits fail to acknowledge about the Russian Federation is that they are only fifteen years into an experiment that we're still practicing and fine-tuning after two hundred and thirty years. Things aren't going to be perfect right out of the gate. It took us six years to draft a workable constitution. In the first thirty-five years of our existence we fought two major wars with Great Britain and we annexed territory at an alarming rate not to mention repressing the rights of natives and African Americans. What should our policy be toward Russia? We should help them make a successful transition out of eighty years of political isolation and we shouldn't be so quick to judge without an eye on our own history."
"Senator Wayne, your rebuttal?" Dunston turned to face the Republican.
"The Governor makes a good point, but there's no excuse for the way the Russians limit the freedom of the press, there's no excuse for how they conduct their war in Chechnya." Wayne started.
"Senator, we still play fast and loose with freedom of the press in this country, we closed off access to Dover AFB because the administration doesn't like seeing flag draped coffins on ZNN. We were the ones who practically invented biological warfare during our push westward and that was a hundred years after we ratified our constitution. I love our country with all my heart and I'm proud to have served her overseas but what we can't do, is openly denigrate a G-8 country and a possible ally in the war on terror just because they haven't been able to work out the kinks in their system yet." Nate had the points all prepared, he didn't even have to look down at the podium.
"Are we just supposed to forget the forty years of Cold War, Governor? The nuclear threats against our country? The threats to our very existence?" Senator Wayne pushed his question.
"We don't forget, Senator, we can never forget. But we can forgive. And being as you've so touted being a Christian on the campaign trail, that's a premise that can't be completely foreign to you." Nate knew he had him on that one. Brent Wayne stood there for two seconds with his jaw agape before locking it up.
"Well, this seems like a good time to move on to our next topic." Dunston intervened. "Senator Wayne, this one's for you."
0233 ZULU
THE PENTAGON WAR ROOM
ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA
The room full of blue Class A uniforms looked up at the screen. It looked like a modern holographic radar screen. There were green lines showing national borders and coastlines. Large blue ovals showed the position of US Navy ships in the area including USS Carl Vinson, the aircraft carrier whose AWACS had caught the day's activity earlier. It would be morning in Lebanon, there was no way they could send the SEAL team in today. They were going to have to wait at least twelve hours before they could get a team off the ground under night cover. The C-17 would take off from NAS Wilson on the island of Cyprus and by 2100 Beirut time; the SEALS would be parachuting into the Bekaa Valley.
Harm knew the risks of this operation. They were putting SEALS into a decades old conflict that was currently functioning under a tentative ceasefire, which was roughly the equivalent of throwing a few tonnes dynamite into a heavy munitions locker. Right now, their only hope was that no one saw that it was their hand that tossed the dynamite. Barris was the only one not wearing his Class A Blues; he was in Peanut butters with his aviation pin on his chest. The four star was also nowhere to be seen.
Harm and Bax were up front, coffee mugs in hand, thinking about everything that was about to unfold. "Y'ever think that all we do is make bad situations worse?" Bax asked while raising his coffee mug to his lips.
"Hey, they were the ones who fired the rocket at the frigate. You got some problems with killing terrorists, Baxter?" Harm eyed his friend suspiciously.
"No." Bax shook his head and set his coffee cup down. "I have a problem with disrupting fragile peace agreements that have the potential to escalate and cause broader regional conflicts."
"Oh, get off your ego trip, Baxter, you didn't cause this. They fired a rocket that killed American servicemen. You actually picked a course of action that shows distinction between terrorists and civilians and yet you still feel guilty? What the hell is wrong with you?" Harm watched Bax walk over and take a seat. He followed his friend over to the chairs.
"I hate war as only one who has experienced war can." Bax quoted President Eisenhower. "It's shitty, that's the only way to explain it, Harm."
"Shit happens." Harm stated simply. "It's one SEAL strike."
"You know it's more then that. With everything that's going on in that region right now, we both know that this means a hell of a lot more then one SEAL strike. We've got Iran and Syria spreading influence to deal with. There are Kurdish uprisings in Iraq, Iran and Turkey and not to mention that ever prevalent threat of a nuclear Pakistan. We may just be adding enough electricity to create a thunderstorm, Harm." Bax toyed with his white cover.
"When we were at the Academy, did you ever figure that one day it would be the two of us helping to make the big decisions?" Harm leaned forward, his elbows digging into his knees.
"If figured that you and Sturgis would." Bax answered with a chuckle. "Sturgis was the bubblehead and fast-attack dolphin not a boomer and you were a Midshipman-Lieutenant Commander with great grades you were going for your wings. I was just a wannabe SEAL."
"Yeah but you worked hard. You jumped streams successfully; you've got to be one of the few flags in Navy history to be special, aviation and surface warfare qualified. Besides, you and Keeter outrank me and Sturgis, isn't that proof that Navy life rarely works out as planned?" Harm and Bax shared a laugh. "You worked with any of the SEALS on the mission?"
"Nope, it's a new crop of guys. You have to realize, I haven't technically been a SEAL for more then a decade, Harm." Bax got up and headed over to the coffee machine.
"I'm surprised that they haven't called in the Marines yet. The Saipan is in the area, you'd think the boys from Eighth & I would have been down here demanding a piece of the action." Harm returned his eyes to the screen. He saw the destroyer USS Donald Cook reposition so that she was between the carrier and the coast. "Anyone got the name of the Skipper on the Carl Vinson?"
"Captain Doug McClure, sir." One of the aides answered from near the back of the room.
"Good record?" Harm asked moving toward the Lieutenant j.g.
"Top of the line, sir." The Lieutenant answered. "XO on Ike, Air Boss on the Big E and before that, Top Gun instructor."
"Sounds like one of our best." Harm nodded as he headed back toward the chairs where his friend of almost three decades was looking over records. "What have you got there?" Harm asked and Bax looked up at him.
"Record of the SEAL team leader. Lieutenant Commander Shane Frasier. Good kid, a reputation for being a little more gung-ho then average but he's tough and he's a skilled HALO jumper. I think we've got a good set of guys for this one." Bax rubbed his eyes to get the sleep out.
"But you still feel like shit for making the recommendation?" Harm inquired.
"Yeah." Bax nodded while yawning. "Yeah, I do."
"Bax, looks like it's going to be an all-nighter, we should probably sleep in shifts until it's go time." Harm suggested, rubbing his own eyes.
"That'll be around 1400 this afternoon, right?" Bax chanced looking like he was trying to calculate the time differential in his head.
"That's about right; the object of the mission was to hit them right after prayers so they wouldn't expect us. It's all routine right, someone attacks American interests abroad and we respond by destroying their ability to continue their assault." Harm shook his head. "It all seems a little more intellectually taxing when you're the one giving the orders.
"Yeah, tell me about it." Bax yawned again.
0253 ZULU
UNIVERSITY OF TEXAS
AUSTIN, TEXAS
"Governor, I thank you for your remarks." Dunston flipped over the last page of his notes. The last question of the night had just been thrown at Nate. He'd had to comment on the role that the United Nations would play in American Foreign Policy under a Ross government. No matter what the issue, tonight, Nate always seemed to get thrown the curveballs; he had gotten the questions about Russia, Iran, China and the UN while the only really tough question that had been thrown at Senator Wayne all evening had been hurled on the topic of North Korea.
Being as he was the one with the degree from Princeton as a specialist in Middle Eastern Affairs, Nate had all the questions about the Middle East thrown at him. He took the questions on Saudi policy and on Islamic Fundamentalism policy. As they neared the end of the last hour of the debate, the spotlights had begun to wear on the candidates causing beads of sweat to begin to trickle down their foreheads.
"We're running out of time, in this our last debate of the Presidential election campaign. I would call on our candidates to deliver their closing statements starting with Senator Brent Wayne of Nevada. Senator." Dunston held the pen in his grip loosely and pointed it at the Senator.
"Thank you, Stuart." Brent Wayne placed his hands shoulder width apart in a move right out of the political playbook. "What's at stake in this campaign? The answer is our country's way of operating both internationally and domestically. The Governor and I have sparred tonight on a lot of issues and I'm sure that we've given the voters a lot to think about but I just want to leave you with a few things to consider. America is at this moment, the greatest superpower in the history of the planet, our foreign policy is dictated by the fact that we alone as a nation bear that burden. The fact is, that our ability to act without hindrances from unfocused international organizations when we deal diplomatically with threats to our national security is our prerogative in the role which we have assumed as a nation over the last twenty years. A role which we must continue, so on November 4th, mark your ballot for the Wayne/Adams Republican ticket for President." There was applause from half of the audience at the conclusion of Brent Wayne's speech.
"Damn!" Charlie cursed under his breath backstage.
"What?" One of the campaign workers asked.
"That was good." Charlie shook his head. "Let's hope the so called 'Man from Bethlehem' can pull this one off."
Out on stage, Nate raised his head to look out into the audience and at the moderator. "I thank Senator Wayne for his remarks. Governor Ross, your closing statement please."
"Imagine if you would, a world where there are no mediators. No voices of reason, no objective council. Just a world where there are two sides operating of their own emotions for better or worse. It's not a world we want to live in, folks, because when those emotions go into overdrive, these two opposing sides have no objections to just blowing each other away. I spent ten years at the State Department as a diplomat and three years as Secretary of State, diplomacy is not as simple as saying 'we're right, they're wrong and no one is going to get in our way', the point of any diplomacy is to avoid bloodshed. Bloodshed that is inevitable in a world without a mediator. American foreign policy must protect American interests, there is no way any one wanting to be President can overemphasize that one fact. The President is elected by you, to protect that which you hold most sacred and in doing so, he is bound by his duty to you. A duty which I upheld overseas in the Marines and which I will uphold for you if elected to be your President. On November 4th, as you practice that which is our greatest right, I encourage you to vote progressive, vote for someone with experience protecting your interests and vote for the Ross/Grier Democratic ticket. Thank you." Nate nodded his head, blinked solemnly and concluded.
"I would like to thank Governor Ross for his remarks." Dunston looked up into the camera. "Ladies and Gentlemen, that concludes tonight's debate in the 2008 Presidential election. I'm Stuart Dunston, goodnight." The lights faded behind Dunston and the camera turned to the stage where the two men shook hands with each other as their families came up on to the stage.
1958 ZULU
PENTAGON WAR ROOM
ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA
Rear Admiral (Lower Half) Harmon Rabb paced back and forth nibbling idly on the fingernail of his right index finger. The SEAL team had left NAS Wilson on a C-17 fifty-eight minutes earlier and were now currently over the Bekaa Valley in eastern Lebanon. Normally, the USNSC would be in the Situation Room but the President and his advisors had come down to the Pentagon to watch Operation O'BANNION take place, albeit, their version came courtesy of a large projection screen with fluorescent coloured icons and radio traffic.
The team was now on the ground in the Bekaa and were about six hundred yards due west of the ruins at Baalbek. Harm stood next to the Chief of Naval Operations Admiral Barris who was still in his Peanut Butters and USS Enterprise cap with his hands placed on his hips. "Christ, Rabb, you're going to gnaw that finger off." Barris looked over at his much younger DCNO who immediately pulled his fingertip out of his mouth.
The radio traffic was an excellent narrative of the action that was taking place on the ground. It was graphic in its own haunting way, every shot could be heard count for count. The other news was that the CH-53E Super Stallion helicopter that was tailing the C-130 had just cleared Israeli airspace and was now only about seven minutes ETA from the LZ. The SEAL team on the ground was thorough and they were good at being as silent as humanly possible. Gunshots were rare but they did occur and Harm could swear that he had never heard return fire.
There was the sound of a large wooden door being kicked open and then there was the familiar sound of a rapid exchange firefight. After a burst of about forty-five seconds, the gunfire stopped and there was silence. "Looks like the room's clear." One over the SEAL voices stated.
"Six confirmed, Commander." One of the other ones piped up.
"How many does that make total, chief?" This voice was of the team leader Lieutenant Commander Frasier.
"Seven outside and six in here, Commander, so thirteen total. How many does it take to fire one of those Katyushas, sir?" The Chief asked.
"Less then thirteen, Chief." Commander Frasier answered. "Fan out and clear the other rooms."
The Pentagon war room, which had not ceased bustling for the last eighteen hours was now completely silent waiting for a final report in. Eliminating one terrorist cell was not a complete victory but it was a measured response and this close to an election, measured responses were just about all the President was allowed the leeway to do.
"Two more in here, Commander." The Chief's voice came back on the radio traffic.
"Two more in here, too, sir." Another voice stated.
"Seventeen total, that's about the average cell size. Alright, we're due to rendezvous with the helo in T-minus three minutes, let's get back to the LZ." Commander Frasier ceased speaking and once again, everything went silent until the SEAL team was back on the helo. Once they were back on, the President walked over to the switchboard.
"Admiral Barris, is there a radio channel here that would allow me to communicate with the SEAL team?" President Russell asked looking at his CNO.
"Yes, sir." Barris nodded.
"Sir, the only frequency would be UHF which probably isn't secure. Being as we're trying to maintain anonymity, sir, it may be more advisable to have you wait until the team arrived back at NAS Wilson." Harm leapt in not wanting to jeopardize the mission after it had gone off so well.
"That's a good idea, Admiral Rabb, thank you." The President nodded at Harm. "I want that after action report on my desk first thing in the morning, Admiral is that understood." The President pointed a finger at Harm.
"Yes, sir!" Harm answered enthusiastically and with a smile which caused President Russell to chuckle.
"Alright, I know this has been a long day's journey into night for most of you, so you're all dismissed until 0830 tomorrow morning by my orders." The President addressed the room. "Go home and get some sleep."