CHINA.
210 DALE BROWN
The @ideoconference screen was blank as Dr. Chi-yang de-
parted; when security was restored in Washington, Joint Chiefs
of Staff chairman Admiral George Balboa was on the hookup
from the Pentagon, along with Admiral Frederick Cowen, the
chief of naval operations. "Very, very touching," Balboa be-
gan acidly. "You did it again, Brad, you old son of a bitch.
You screw up in the worst possible way, ignore orders, start
firing missiles all over the damn sky, and you precipitate a
damned nuclear attack, and somehow you have world leaders
kissing your boots and comparing you to the Flying Tigers.
Incredible."
"Kinda makes you want to slit your own wrists right now,
doesn't it, George?" Elliott said with,his irritating little grin
"You will shut your mouth right, now, Elliott," Balboa
shouted angrily, pointing at the videoconference camera.
"What the ROC government thinks of you fight now doesn't
carry one ounce of water with me! You deliberately violated
direct orders from me, the National Command Authority, and
CINCPAC to hold fire and withdraw. You are more than just
a menace, Elliott, you are a disgrace to any American who
has ever worn a uniform."
"General Elliott had nothing to do with what we did over
there, Admiral Balboa," McLanahan said. "I was the mission
commander on that flight, I gave the orders to launch, and I'm
responsible for the death of Emil Vikrarn."
"Don't forget the deaths of five hundred Taiwanese sailors,
an estimated three hundred Taiwanese civilians on Quemoy,
and dozens of deaths and injuries aboard the Chinese war-
ships," Balboa interjected. "You're responsible for all of
them!" McLanahan's shoulders sank, as if he had just been
reminded of a painful event in his life. "You're going to have
to live with all that, Mr. McLanahan. Even though I can ab-
solve myself by reminding myself that I never sanctioned this
mission and never thought you should be involved, I too will
have to live with the horror of all those lives lost."
"Why don't you just be a total asshole and completely wash
your hands of the whole thing, George?" Elliott retorted. "No-
body's stopping you."
"What I would like even better is to shut you down, have
those planes cut up into little pieces, and throw you in prison,"
Balboa said. "There is a question of how the Taiwanese found
out so much about this operation, and I have a feeling you
FATAL TER RAI N 211
were responsible for that. As for this operation, it looks as if
the President wants to continue this foolhardy plan. If the loss
of one of your airframes and Lieutenant Vikram poses a prob-
lem, Mr. McLanahan, I expect you to report promptly to Ad-
miral Allen so we can make alternate arran ements."
9
"A replacement crew and plane is being ferried from
Blytheville as we speak," McLanahan said. "It'll arrive in
about twenty hours. But we can maintain a normal schedule
right now."
"Then do it," Balboa said. "But you are not authorized to
speak with anyone else, especially foreign nationals, at any
time. The only persons you are authorized to communicate
with are units or command posts briefed to you prior to take-
off. Failure to comply with this order will subject you and
your co-workers to the most severe penalties allowable. Is that
clear?"
"Yes, sir," McLanahan said. Elliott shook his head and
rolled his eyes at his partner acceding to Balboa's lame threat
so passively, but McLanahan ignored him. "Sir, I need per-
mission to contact Lieutenant Vikram's family."
"Denied," Balboa said. "My staff will decide how to han-
dle notification. You worry about your patrol missions and
keeping out of trouble. Dismissed." The videoconference link
was abruptly terminated.
"What a butthead," Elliott fumed. He got up and found
himself a cup of coffee. "I'll bet he wanted so badly to shit-
can us that he probably considered ignoring the President's
orders. That asshole, blaming you for all those deaths. Ignore
all that, Muck. The PLAN's at fault for attacking the ROC
and for killing Emitter, not you."
McLanahan got up. His muscles were aching, a by-product
of long hours in the Megafortress's cockpit, nearly an hour of
sheer terror while under attack by the People's Republic of
China's People's Liberation Army Navy, a dead crew member,
two hours of nursing a crippled bomber back home to an emer-
gency landing in marginal weather-and then, after all that, a
tongue-lashing by the chairman of the Joint Chiefs. All in all,
a pretty shitty twelve hours. He wasn't ready to hear Round
Two from Brad Elliott. "Let's give it a rest now, Brad, all
right?" McLanahan asked. "We've got a lot to do-get re-
pairs going on our damaged bird, get the patrols back in the
212 DALE BROWN
air." He wanted to call Emil's family, whom he had met sev-
eral times, but decided against it.
"The first thing I'm going to do is make a few phone calls
back to Washington," Elliott said resolutely. "I've got plenty
of markers to call in. Balboa doesn't have the authority to
cancel our contract. If we put a little pressure on him, he'll be
forced to back off. We should--
"Do nothing," McLanahan said angrily. "Nothing. No
phone calls, no markers. Just back off, okay?"
"What in hell's the matter with you?" Elliott asked. "You
can't let jerks like Balboa run our lives. He's the chairman of
the Joint Chiefs, not commander in chief or the damned ern-
peror."
"Brad, he's running this operation."
"Balboa and Allen are pissed because we launched a couple
Rainbows and Wolverines and protected that frigate," Elliott
went on. "They would've done the same if they were flying
that mission, but because we did it, they're mad. I'll tell you
the truth, son-if it wa s their plane, or if they had a ship of
their own in position, theyd've blasted that carrier and de-
stroyer and as many of the other ships back there to hell in
the blink of an eye! You know it, and I know it."
"I hear you, Brad, and I agree one hundred percent,"
McLanahan said. "But they are calling the shots, not us. That's
the difference. We weren't given the go-ahead to make our
own attack decisions. It may be hurt pride, or embarrassment,
or professional jealously, whatever-it doesn't matter. They
say 'jurnp,' we ask 'how highT "
"What about Sung? What about those Taiwanese sailors?
They died right before our eyes, waiting for our help."
"Brad, if that had been an American ship down there, I'd
have stayed until all our weapons were exhausted, and then I
would've helped the other Megafortresses roll in on target, and
then I'd go back and reload and come back out again,"
McLanahan said. "But it wasn't one of ours."
"So you don't care what happens to them?"
Elliott asked
incredulously. "Man, this doesn't sound like you at all."
"What I care about is how this weapon system integrates
with our other military forces," McLanahan said, "not how
we can kick ass and sink ships all over the Pacific. We're not
mercenaries, and we're not avenging angels."
"What is this? I don't believe what I'm hearing," Elliott
FATAL T ER RAI N 213
shouted, shaking his head. "Did you think you had a chance
of 'integrating' the Megafortresses with any Project coming
out of the Pentagon? Did you really think Balboa was going
to embrace you and the Megafortresses, whether or not you
did as you were ordered to do?"
McLanahan was silent-he knew Brad Elliott was right. The
Megafortresses got to fly over the Formosa Strait only because
he and Terrill Samson had earned the Presdent's attention and
respect as a result of the secret Iran bombing missions. Patrick
had deluded himself into believing that he could reintegrate
the modified B-52s into the Arherican aerial strike force-but
that was not going to happen. The current Pentagon-brain trust
did not care for large land-based bombers. They weren't going
to pay any money to keep any around, no matter how high-
tech they were. The Quemoy mission was dead right from the
start.
Emil Vikram may indeed have died for nothing.
"Screw it, Brad, just screw it,,, McLanahan said irritably.
"I'm tired of your military services bigotry, I'm tired of the
Political games, and I'm tired of risking my neck for nothing.
Just shut up and--
"Whoa, whoa, listen to yourself, Muck," Elliott said. "You
sound like a quitter, like a spoiled brat'who just wants to take
back his bat and ball and go home. What is with you? This
doesn't have anything to do with Wendy being pregnant, does
it? You're not trying to keep us -out of harm's way because
you got one in the oven, are you?"
"Wendy's Pregnant?" Cheshire exclaimed. "is it true?
You didn't tell us this, Muck!"
"Tell 'ern, Muck," Elliott said, that cocksure grin on his
face again. He guessed, McLanahan knew, and he was smug
and happy that he guessed right.
"Yes, it's true," McLanahan said. "We didn't say anything
because we're only going on our third month." McLanahan
jammed a finger in Elliott's face. "General, it has nothing to
do with Wendy-it has to do with you, " he shot back angrily.
"What about me? I'm doing my job, the job I was hired to
do! "
. "Hired by whom? Jon Masters, the U. government-or
the Taiwanese government?" McLanahan asked.
"What in hell are you talking about?" Elliott retorted, per-
haps a little too vehemently.
214 DALE BROWN
I, m wondering how that Captain Sung synchronized onto
our comm channel during our surveillance," McLanahan said
hotly. "The chances of him finding our initial frequency, chan-
nel-hopping along with us, then calling in the blind and reach-
ing us at the exact moment we were in the area-I'd say that
was a thousand-to-one shot."
"A kid with a Radio Shack scanner and some brains can
do it," Elliott said. "You know that."
"So how did he know we were flying a bomber?"
"He must've guessed," Elliott said. "That Taiwanese am-
bassador saw us in the White House; he knows we're bomber
guys, and he passed the info along to his navy. Hell, stealth
bombers have been in the news for months now."
"So I suppose you guessed the captain's name, then?"
"VOiat?"
"You mentioned the captain's name, Sung, even before he
called us on the secure channel," McLanahan said. "You also
admonished Sung for launching the attack when he did. You
didn't bother getting an authentication-even though you got
one from Samson, talking to him over an even more secure
satellite freq-because you knew Sung couldn't authenticate.
And you were quick to blame the Navy for lousy communi-
cations security, when it was you all along."
"You're nuts, Muck."
"Nuts, huh? Why don't I call back to Blytheville and get
Wendy to pull the phone records from the day before our
launch?" McLanahan asked angrily. "We can get the caller's
name and number for any call in or out of headquarters, and
Security might even be able to get a transcript. You must've
been in contact with someone right before launch-we can
find out who it was."
Elliott was about to protest again, but he looked at Mc-
Lanahan's stone-angry face and cracked a smile. "Jesus, I
can't believe I guessed fight: you are going to have a baby,"
the old ex-three-star general said. "I think of you as a son,
Patrick. I feel like I'm going to be a granddad."
"Stick to the point here, 'grandpa.' "
"All right all right-yes, I was in contact with the Tai-
wanese-with Kuo, the new ambassador to the U. that we
ran into in the West Wing," Elliott said resignedly. "He called
me, and that's the goddamn truth. He knew, or guessed, every-
thing we were about to do. He told me about Taiwan's plans
FATAL T ER RAI N 215
to block the Chinese fleet. He told me about the intelligence
they received about China putting nuclear warheads on its land
attack and anti-ship missiles. And then he asked for my help.
"You were supposed to hang up and report the foreign con-
tact to the security department at Sk Masters, Inc.," Mc-
Lanahan said, "and sure as hell, you weren't supposed to
confirm any information or reveal any information to him, like
the synchronizer codes! Jesus, Brad, if Balboa ever finds out-
no, I should say, when Balboa finds oud-he's going to throw
all of us in prison for twenty years! It's a clear violation."
"Balboa's too stupid to find out, and besides, I think the
ROICs will cover their trail and explain away the rest," Elliott
said confidently. "Don't worry about it."
It was no use arguing with Elliott over this, McLanahan
decided-as usual, he felt he was invincible, not just above
the law but somehow blessed by God and given full authority
to stretch the law and the truth with impunity. He continued
to study his friend and mentor, watching him sip coffee; then:
"You okay, Brad?"
Elliott seemed startled, then annoyed, that anyone was
watching him. He scowled over the rim of his coffee mug.
"I'm fine, Muck. Why?"
"How's the chest pains?"
"Chest pains? What chest pains?"
"You complained of chest pains on the plane."
"I just got blasted half out of my seat by an imploding one-
hundred-pound sheet of Lexan," Elliott responded. "You'd be
in pain too."
"Nothing else? Shortness of breath, numbness in the arms,
blurred vision, feelings like indigestion, headaches?"
"Hey, Dr. Pat, I did not, nor am I now, having a heart attack
or stroke," Elliott retorted. "Sure, I got Tattled when that
windscreen blew out
in my face. Yeah, I could use about
twenty-four hours of sleep-in fact, that's where I'm headed
right now. You want to waste time hooking me up to monitors
and making me walk a treadmill, go ahead-I challenge you
to keep up with me! In the meantime, Balboa will be chopping
up your planes right there in the hangar and trying like hell to
toss our company into the crapper. You make the decision,
mission commander. I'm going to hit the rack."
On his way out, Elliott bumped into none other than Wendy
216 DALE BROWN
McLanahan. Without one bit of surprise at her being on Guam,
he gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Congratulations, gor-
geous," he said simply, then walked away toward the exit.
."Brad? Hey, General, how about ... ?" But he was off,
leaving Wendy confused.
"Wendy!" Patrick exclaimed, taking his wife into his arms.
They kissed tenderly, enjoying a long, warm embrace. "What
on earth are you d . oing here?" he asked, still in her embrace.
"Jon needed help, and I volunteered," she said. "I was en
route when I found out about the mission, about Emil. I'm so
sorry, Patrick."
"Thanks, sweetie, but I'm worried about you, about the
baby." nd the phone, nothing
"I'm working on the computer a
-class commercial on United
else," Wendy said. "I flew first
and Cathay Pacific, not on the NIRTSat booster launch plane
or the tankers. I'll be fine." Wendy accepted a hug and another
round of congratulations, first from Nancy Cheshire, then from
a few of the other crew members and specialists in the hangar.
"It looks like the cat's out of the bag."
"Brad guessed," Patrick said. "Of course- he threw it in
my face."
"He did what?"
"I'll explain everything, sweetie," McLanahan said, "but
it's not a fun story."
-CINCPAC, are you still up?" Admiral Balboa called.
"CINCPAC's up, along with General Samson," Admiral
William Allen responded. The videoconference between Ha-
waii and the Pentagon was still active.
"I've got orders for you too, General," Balboa said. "Ap-
parently the President still thinks highly of your judgment. You