The Threat

But Sebold’s intercession seemed to have given the assistant national security adviser a chance to regain his composure. “An apology would be a start. What were you doing in with Holt in the first place?”

Dan explained about the report. Sebold and Gelzinis exchanged glances. “Dan, that should have gone through me,” the general said.

“The president asked me for it.”

“Again, you’re not in the loop,” Gelzinis told him. “You think you see what you think you see and that’s all there is. But it’s not.”

“I saw people being killed.”

“And you think due to inaction on our part.”

“Damn right.”

“While what you’re actually perceiving is the Pentagon fighting us tooth and nail to avoid having to commit troops. And a certain lack of … traction on our part vis-à-vis the Joint Chiefs and others.”

“De Bari’s the commander in chief. All he has to do is give an order.”

The two men exchanged the looks of adults dealing with an unreasonable three-year-old. “It’s not just a matter of giving an order. Especially with Stahl as chairman. That’s not how things work at the higher levels. More of a — a collaborative process—”

“Last time I looked, we still had civilian control.”

“I’m afraid in practice that control’s situational. A directive they don’t care for can be modified. Circumvented. Even ignored, if the Chiefs and the combatant commanders don’t agree.”

“Then fire them! Lincoln and Truman did it. You mean he’s afraid to play hardball.”

“‘Afraid’ is too strong a word. We’ve got our problems with the Pentagon, sure.”

Dan thought that had to rank as the understatement of the century, given the open ridicule from senior officers, the open disobedience, the way midgrade people were hemorrhaging out of services that couldn’t seem to make up their mind either to move ahead or stand pat, that instead whipsawed back and forth, bewildering the rank and file. But he didn’t interrupt as Gelzinis went on. “But there are other ways to address the issue.… What’s actually happening is, we’re giving certain parties the green light to ship arms into the region. To redress the balance, so to speak. We have to do it quietly because our European allies, that’s contrary to their policy. But it’s the only way we’ll get the combatants to a state of exhaustion, where we can step in and broker a peace.”

Dan felt as if he’d stepped through the looking glass. Hadn’t De Bari told him in the Oval Office debriefing that he wouldn’t permit arms shipments? “A state of exhaustion … Who is shipping in these arms?”

“That’s not important,” Gelzinis said, at the same moment Sebold said, “The Iranians.”

“We’re letting the Iranians

ship arms into Bosnia?” Dan clutched his temples, unable to comprehend the piling up of ever more catastrophic idiocies. “And who’s training them? The Iranians, are they training them too?”

“That’s classified and you won’t discuss it,” Gelzinis said. “You don’t know what you’re doing, and you’d better shut your mouth. Garner, we need to talk about this—”

“No need,” Sebold said equably. “I’ll tell you exactly what’s happening here, Brent, and don’t get all huffy on me, okay? You’re talking past each other. Because each of you thinks the other guy’s like he is. Okay? But you’re not.

“Dan, you’re talking to a guy who’s been throwing elbows in politics a lot of years. He knows that most of the time, if you take the high road, you end up going over the cliff. And maybe because of that, he tends to expect the worst out of the people he deals with.

“Brent, you’re talking to professional military. A guy who still has a functioning sense of honor. He doesn’t like what he’s seeing. Like they say, politics and making sausage, right? He’s telling you that, up front, but that’s as far as it’s going to go with him. Because he does believe in the Constitution, and taking civilian direction. He’s not going to leak a word about arms shipments. Or Tallinger. Or about anything else that takes place inside the fence. This may strike you as quaint, but he’ll keep his word. It’s not going to be like dealing with the rats over at State, or the Hill.”

A pause. Finally Gelzinis sighed. Turned away.

“Dismissed,” the general said in Dan’s direction.

* * *

He stopped in the corridor. Above his head the nineteenth-century light-globes glowed. Staffers were leaving. Brushing by him, carrying briefcases and rolled-up newspapers. He leaned against antique plaster and rubbed his eyes till stars burst. The enemies were gathering. Like buzzards above some wounded thing trailing its guts on the asphalt. Didn’t anyone care about the country? About anything beyond his own interest?

He smiled grimly, remembering how Sandy had laughed at him once when he’d asked that. In ten years, it had gotten worse. Much worse.

But until they did shitcan him, he didn’t plan to stop doing his job. What could they do — send him back to sea?

He only wished they would.

14