Lane’s problem now was his continued policy of “no new boots on the ground.” His critics feared this sent a clear signal to America’s enemies that the United States was withdrawing from its strategic responsibilities — the moral equivalent of waving a red flag in the bull’s face, if not a white one. But his opponents also knew the American people were tired of war, and “no new boots” was wildly popular.
Lane stared at the constellation of stars as he entered the Tank. As a former air force captain, his first instinct was to salute, but he resisted the ingrained habit. After all, he was the boss now. He was the first president since George H. W. Bush to have served in active-duty combat. But Lane still felt the butterflies in his gut. Nearly two hundred collective years of distinguished and accomplished military service sat in front of him. Four earned doctorates and eight master’s degrees between them, too. Flag officers were notoriously political creatures, but these were also extremely serious people.
His decision to hold the line on the federal budget freeze initiated during the Myers administration didn’t win him any friends in the room, either. Military budgets were frozen in place despite the Pentagon’s endless clamoring for increased funding to meet ever-increasing global threats.
Lane was accompanied by Secretary of State Gaby Wheeler, Secretary of Defense Bren Shafer, and National Security Advisor Jim Garza. These were serious people, too, in their respective spheres. And political.
The JCS agreed to meet privately, without the usual crowd of vice chairmen, staff officers, and other “horse holders” in attendance. Introductions were dismissed, formalities set aside. Stout navy coffee was served along with tea and bottled water as the chairman took his customary seat at the head of the enormous blond conference table. The other chiefs sat in their flanking positions. President Lane took the seat on the far end, flanked by his civilian coterie.
Secretary Wheeler played video clips of subtitled Japanese newscasts, along with shaky handheld Internet video of the Chinese trawler’s attack on the Japanese dive boat. Everyone had already seen them, but Wheeler wanted the events fresh in their minds. The Chinese had kicked the hornet’s nest. Hundreds of Japanese marched in angry protests throughout the nation, among the largest and most violent demonstrations in the postwar period.
“The Chinese claim the Japanese attacked them first, earlier in the day. Claim the Japanese tried to ram them, drive them away from one of their prime fishing grounds,” Wheeler said. “It’s all bullshit, of course. Including the official protest they’ve sent to Tokyo.”
“The CIA analyzed the video and identified at least two of the so-called Chinese fishermen as members of the Ministry of State Security,” Garza said. “A boatload of bad-ass leg breakers sending a message.”
“It’s a helluva message,” Chairman Onstot said. He was a four-star air force general with a chest full of combat medals, badges, and ribbons, all earned the hard way. “The Chinese have staked out a claim and they intend to defend it.”
“No one was killed, thank God,” Wheeler said. She didn’t add that the diver was still in critical but stable condition at a local hospital.
“It was an act of violence nonetheless. And probably the last one without bloodshed. The next step will be escalation,” Shafer said. He’d already been through the ringer with the JCS earlier as they laid out their frank concerns over recent Chinese actions. The SecDef largely agreed with their assessment, but even the chiefs weren’t entirely unanimous on a course of action, which was why he insisted the president meet with them today.
Shafer was a former chair of the Senate Armed Services Committee, the perfect person to bridge Lane’s political and experiential gap. Lane was viewed by establishment Washington as a country rube from Texas despite his six years in Congress, armed only with boyish good looks, a second-rate state university degree, and an excellent combat record.
But it was the four-leaf clover shoved in Lane’s pocket the old hands most deeply resented. Dumb luck had won him the presidency in their opinion.
If Senator Fiero’s campaign hadn’t been sunk by the mysterious and incriminating Bath leaks, she’d be the one sitting in the Oval Office today, not Lane. Fiero was a known commodity. Easy to work with. She understood how the game was played.
Likewise, his presidential predecessor, Robert Greyhill, whose reelection campaign was doomed from the start thanks to the self-serving betrayal of his vice president, who was caught on tape recommending the execution of the American war hero Troy Pearce. Pleading ignorance of Gary Diele’s crimes only made former president Greyhill appear even more incompetent and out of touch than he was commonly portrayed.