Twenty Minute Wars: CBG Seven
by Michael G. Crawford
"Buddy, I want a clear cut case of hostility, not a provocation. If those bastards decide to throw a nuke at one of our ships, 15 miles from a major population center, I don't want to be the cause of it all. In my adminstration we don't play games with nukes."
As the military men began to aruge, he continued, "...I know, I know. There is always the nuclear threat. But let's not lead with our nose gentlemen. If it ever does happen, can't we arrange it next to some unfriendly nation. It is plum crazy to even consider nuclear weapons, especially near a non-beligerent's home port. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Sir", echoed in unison the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and Chief of Staff of the Navy. The Navy Admiral now spoke up, "But we can't always choose where we are going to catch a sneak thief at work, Sir. And if he tosses a dirty one at us, we just can't sit there and eat it."
"The hell you can't Admiral" replied the Commander-in-Chief. Calming down, he retracted his statement "I think I just admitted that we can't prevent the other guy from getting nasty. Give me a break here. I'm just upset over the possibility of you guys making the Ivory Coast glow at night. I don't want to go down in history as the man who turned the Ivory Coast beaches into glass!" After letting the point sink in a bit, he shouted out loud to emphasis it. "Damnit, Buddy! We've had this discussion before."
"Yes, Sir."
"If I might interrupt, gentlemen" interceded Senator Wackston.
"Yeah go ahead, Jim, we're just bitchin' at each other ta' no real purpose" said the President.
"Well, let's consider some of our recent information, shall we. Suppose this boat was not a Russian Alfa. Suppose Khadafy's sub pen was built for HIS Alfa. The damn size fits, and Collins is convinced that the so called "nuclear materials handling area" is for fueling, not weapons.
The Admiral interjected, "And I believe that analysis is correct. I don't believe that the Libyans have nuclear capability. No-one is crazy enough to give it to them, and I doubt they have figured it out on their own yet. Even if they could build a weapon, they couldn't get enough yield to do any real damage, other than wave motion inshore."
"Yeah but we can't take that risk" replied the President.
"I don't see the risk, but I will agree with you for the purposes of our argument", said Jim. "But let's also change the scenario a little. Where would Khadafy be least likely to use a nuclear weapon?" he asked and then waited for the reply.
"In his own front yard. In Sidra, just as I was saying" replied the Chief of Staff in a quiet voice, just waiting to be beat on again.
"That's correct. We could wait..."
"Sorry, Mr. President" said the Chief of Staff in a strange, disrespectful voice. Jim looked at them both briefly, then began to understand the two old friends.
"Don't screw around with me, Buddy. It's not the day for it" warned the chief executive. "Continue, Senator."
"Right. As I was saying, let's just wait patiently for our regular excursion into the Sidra. A hundred bucks says the idiot sub will be loitering around, just waiting for a chance to knock the arrogant smile off our face."
The Admiral grimaced at that statement and turned to look out over the west lawn of the White House, the morning light reflecting in bars across his face. He pulled the cord on the blinds to open them wide and plopped into a hundred and fifty year old oak chair as if it were just casual furniture.
The President grew silent and stared at the man, then turned to a door. He continued his silence as the four men stepped into the elevator back up to the President's working office in the West wing of the White House.
Once there the conversation continued.
"But Sir. We just keep watchin' for them, and then shoot 'em where we find 'em. We woulda' hadda' a nice catch on this one. An Alfa for god's sake. That's worth the risk."
"Not in my book, Admiral. You want to catch a Russian boat, you catch it out in the middle of the god-damn ocean, where a nuclear exchange is gonna be fairly innocuous. I don't want it on my friend's front porch."
"I'd like to know for sure what is in that pen...what the layout of the place is" said General Carstairs returning to that subject, then admired his fingernails while waiting for THE man to speak."
"I know someone who would love to find out for you" said the Admiral instead, quietly already working on the wording of the message to the U.S.S. Philadelphia.
Meanwhile the President had grown thoughtful and had sat back down in the command chair. Now he leaned back, staring at his terminal with his hands steepled in front of him while clucking his teeth. Then he grinned and threw one of his trademark white Staedtler erasers at the Admiral and all four men laughed breaking the tension.