Charles Taylor - Show of Force

"Fine, son. Why don't you find out the status of that satellite, and the onetime code system, and get back to us just as soon as you can. And if the people over at Hopkins hesitate, remind them that some very fine men and some very valuable ships need their help immediately."

"Yes, sir." The communications officer saluted quickly, turned to the Secretary of State and half-saluted him, not knowing what might be expected, and left the room.

Jasperson used the phone for a few moments to contact various aides. Finished, he turned to Carter, who was relaxing calmly in an easy chair, seemingly unconcerned. "My people don't seem to know(much about your Admiral Charles, just that he's not only one of our youngest admirals but that he's been promoted very fast for his age. And they say that's all quite surprising for an officer with a letter of reprimand in his official file." The Secretary sat down also, his eyebrows raised, waiting for a response.

Carter's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and Jasperson noticed just a slight edge to his voice. "That letter of reprimand was a necessity as a result of a court of inquiry. David was responsible for saving an inestimable number of lives during that incident in Vietnam. He took command of a badly battered riverboat squadron, after his CO had been wounded, and fought a VC force back to a base camp that had been hidden, for weeks from intelligence. Not only did his men put up one hell of a fight, but they went ashore and found the enemy staging area prepared for a full-scale offensive. Most of that was destroyed when he called in aircraft and personally directed the strike from the ground."

"That's a very impressive action to merit a reprimand."

"The staging area was just over the border in, Cambodia, Mr.

Secretary. We were.under political instructions not to cross it. David made a decision based on his duty and the lives of his men."

Jasperson smiled, noting the returning formality, and nodded, "I remember it now. I was in a junior position at the U.N. then. I can remember the hell that raised for us. The President was so damn mad because he finally was forced to come out and admit it was an illegal act. But he told me later how proud he was of whoever that boy was. He just asked us to get him the hell out of there before he marched into Hanoi, but he wished he could have personally decorated him."

"As it was," remarked Carter, "he also got a letter of commendation for his initiative. But I would have given him the goddamn Medal of Honor," he added vehemently.

"You know Admiral Charles pretty well, don't you, Sam?"

"Yes," sighed the Admiral, "I guess I know him like a son. His first assignment out of the Academy was to my ship. He wasn't a student, no MacArthur or Nimitz or Ernie King. As a matter of fact, they had to kind of push him through. But what a leader! He could use his head, and he handled his men beautifully." Admiral Carter smiled to himself. "Even as an ensign he had that initiative. And he wasn't scared to stand up for himself. I had a couple of battles with him even then, but he always learned from them, even if it was the hard way sometimes."

"I didn't mean to cut him down a few minutes ago, Sam, if that's what you thought."

"No, no. That's okay." Carter waved his hand in acknowledgment. "He is like a son, and he's a good friend, too. As a matter of fact, Tom, I gave away the bride when he got married after Vietnam. Maria was the widow of a Navy pilot shot down over there, and I remember convincing her the night before the wedding that I'd make sure he stayed out of trouble."

"And now, he's right back in the middle of it." The Secretary paused for a moment. "Well, we'll see what we can do to help him from here, Sam. I don't think the President's going to do us any good. One of my aides said he's thinking about going to the U.N. to see if they'll mediate for us."

"And let everything go down the drain?"

"I'm afraid it's possible, Sam. He's never really wanted to worry about anything other than medicare, and grain, and social security. That's how he got elected. I was just informed by my assistant secretary that we have another twenty-four hours to work this out our way, or he'll call the Secretary General at the U.K."

"And is my boss with him?"

"Yes, but perhaps that's the best place. He seems to have had the President's ear long enough to convince him that you may know what you're doing, so I'm going to need you and your young Admiral pretty badly in the next few hours."

Sam Carter was very proud of his assignment as Vice Chief of Naval Operations. He had come a long way for an officer who had never seen the grounds of Annapolis until he received his first orders to Washington. He had been one of the thousands of officers churned through the V–I2 programs during the latter days of World War II. He had been a twenty-year-old ensign when he proudly sailed into Tokyo Bay on his first ship, and he decided at that point he would make the Navy a career.

Promotion was slow in those days, and would have been even worse because of his non-Annapolis background if he had not married Ann. She was the daughter of an Admiral who had graduated from the Academy at the turn of the century, when classes were small and those who were good enough to survive looked after each other. The old man made sure Sam got the right orders, and Sam made sure he carried them out superbly. He was always in the right place. He was in the amphibs, commanding an old, LST during MacArthur's landing at Inchon. He was executive officer of a DE in the Mediterranean when the Marines landed in Lebanon. He commanded the Bagley when that first submarine was surfaced during the Cuban quarantine.

Between his tours at sea, he managed to obtain his masters degree at Monterey, and there was little problem getting to Washington twice, where you had to go if you were going to shake the right hands. He was never a politician, but he had that advantage of being in the right place at the right time. And Sam Carter gained a reputation as a comer. He could drive a tin can through a knothole in a hurricane; he was a fine leader of men; he gained a reputation for brilliance so that he made it to the War College; and he was probably called by his first name by more senior officers than any other man as he attained each rank. But, because he never went to Annapolis, he knew he would never become CNO. And now, according to the Secretary of State, he was functioning in exactly that position.

The phone on Admiral Carter's desk interrupted his thoughts. He snatched it off the cradle. "Yes."

He listened for a moment, nodding his head occasionally. "I see. Can't you launch in less than thirty-six hours?… What can you do if we can't wait that long?…"He listened for a moment and then remarked, "Why don't you just come out and say tough shit? No need to avoid it if the answer's going to be no. We'll simply have to take a different approach. What about the onetime codes?.… Good, stay close. I'll need you when Secretary Jasperson comes back… and would you please also see about someone getting some food up here?" He added, "For you, too!" The one bit of good news was that they could get through to the embassy in Moscow with a onetime code that was secure, if they could get to Collier before he decided to move on his own. Carter silently thanked God that it was Bob Collier in Moscow, a man with an intellect respected both by the military and civilian people at the upper levels.

Collier wasn't a sailor on the same terms as Carter or David Charles. To keep his wife and family, he had acceded to mostly shore duty, even though he had deeply loved the sea since his days on the Bagley. After leaving that ship, he had asked for the Russian language school in Monterey, mostly to keep his wife happy and still remain in the Navy. He quickly became the top Russian scholar in the school, and his next assignment was in Washington on the CNO's staff. This solidified his career, for he was in the proper place for senior officers to recognize his abilities. After that, it was a matter of the right staff positions as he was educated at a variety of schools, culminating in early orders to the Naval War College. There he distinguished himself among some of the foremost military scholars in the nation. He was the perfect man to be at the embassy in Moscow.