Vortex

“So you’re proposing that we just leave this guy dangling out there all alone?”

Hurley nodded somberly.

“I don’t see what else we can do, sir. We’re not likely to be able to help him, and even the attempt to find him could draw South African security forces to his real location.” He paused.

“Wherever that is.”

“Very well.” Forrester looked down at his hands, feeling suddenly tired and a lot older than his years. As usual, Hurley reasoning was impeccable, but that didn’t make the decision any more palatable.

Well, so be it. Even though the buck ultimately stopped with the

President, a lot of the spare change landed on his own desk. Making unpalatable decisions went with the territory. Forrester smiled inwardly, remembering his relatively carefree days in the U.S. Senate. Only congressmen had the luxury of speaking and acting out of both sides of their mouths at the same time.

In the meantime, the President expected concrete recommendations from this NSC session and he expected them soon. Forrester looked up, encompassing the entire group in one sweep of his eyes.

“Okay. Let’s move on to the broader problem: just what the hell are we going to do about this mess?”

He was answered by silence.

The Vice President frowned. Perhaps it was time for a small prod.

“Come on, folks. The American people aren’t paying us to sit around on our behinds.” He pointed toward the map.

“Now we know what’s happening in

South Africa is going to hurt us and hurt us badly. So what can we do about it? Ed?”

Hurley fiddled with his glasses, polished them quickly, and then slipped them back on his nose-plainly stalling for time. Finally, he shrugged.

“Our people at State could draft a statement for the President’s signature demanding that Vorster resign and schedule new elections under their constitution.”

Forrester hid his disappointment. He’d expected something more direct and forceful from Hurley. Still, the suggestion was worth considering as a first step.

“Vorster will simply ignore it,” Hamilton Reid interjected.

“Of course he will!” Hurley shot back.

“But we need to tell the world just where we stand before we go any further.”

That was true, Forrester thought. A clearly worded call for Vorster’s resignation would also help take some of the political heat off the administration. Even more importantly, it would commit the U.S.

government to finding some way to pressure Vorster out of power. He said as much to the group.

Reid persisted, “Maybe so, but how much can we really

do? Directly interfering in the internal affairs of a legitimate government…” The secretary of commerce paused, realization dawning on his face.

“My God, they aren’t a legitimate government. They grabbed power illegally!”

Nicholson continued the thought.

“And Vorster was kind enough to tell everyone that on worldwide television.” He turned to Forrester.

“Mr. Vice

President, I move that we recommend that the President withdraw our recognition of South Africa’s government until voters there have elected new leaders according to their own somewhat lopsided constitution. “

Forrester felt a little life returning to the group and smiled slightly.

“We may reword the last bit of that, but I agree that we should explicitly label Vorster’s government illegal and break off our relations with it.”

He leaned forward and lowered his voice.

“But let’s face hard facts. We all know that Vorster won’t capitulate or hand over power simply because we say he should. In fact, we may just be giving him more propaganda ammunition for the home folks. What the President needs to know is this exactly what can we do to push the son of a bitch out of office?”

The secretary of commerce raised a hesitant hand.

“I still think South

Africa’s economy offers the best avenue for attacking him. If enough of his white supporters see their livelihoods and businesses going down the drain, they’ll try to pull the plug on Vorster themselves.” Reid grimaced.

“But conventional sanctions take a long time to work. And anyway, I’m not sure we can do anything that would wreck South Africa’s economy faster than Vorster’s own Namibian war and crazy security crackdowns.”

Forrester frowned.

“What about using a wider range of measures?”

“How wide?” asked Reid. Other heads around the table nodded, agreeing with the commerce secretary’s push for a clearer definition. Few people were willing to commit themselves to any concrete recommendation without some firmer indication of the President’s intentions.

Fair enough. It was time to drop a small bombshell, Forrester thought.

“The President has authorized us to consider anything short of open war.

“

A deep bass baritone from near the end of the table cut through the stunned silence.

“Then it’s a blockade.”

Forrester looked at the tall, lantern-jawed man in an Air Force uniform.

Combat service ribbons and decorations added splashes of different colors to his dark blue jacket.

“A blockade, General?”

Gen. Walter Hickman, chairman of the Joint Chiefs, nodded once.