Executive Orders by Tom Clancy
THE GROUND-BASED laser was only insurance. They could have gone in without it, but picking out exactly the right house in the city would have been difficult, and they wanted to limit collateral damage. This way, also, the aircraft could drop their weapons from higher altitude. Simple ballistics would guarantee a drop to within a hundred yards, and the improved optics systems on the guidance packages cut that figure to one. Exactly on time, both BANDIT aircraft (“Bandit” was the semi-official call sign for the pilots of the Black Jets) opened their bomb-bay doors. Each aircraft carried a single five-hundred-pound weapon, the smallest that could take a PAVEWAY guidance package. These hung from a trapeze while the seeker heads looked for a modulated laser signal. Both acquired the laser dot, and so informed the pilots, who executed the release. Then they both did something neither had ever done before on a Stealth mission.
“BANDIT-TWO-FIVE-ONE, bomb away!”
“TWO-FIVE-TWO, bomb gone!”
“EVERY IDEA IN the history of man, good or bad, has started in a single human mind, and wars begin because one mind thinks it profitable to kill and steal. This time, it’s happened to us in a particularly cruel way. This time, we can be exactly sure who did it—and more.”
WORLDWIDE, IN EVERY country with a satellite dish and TV cable, in over a billion homes, the picture changed from the Oval Office of the White House to a three-story building on a city street. Most viewers thought it some mad error, something from a movie, a bad connection—
A HANDFUL KNEW different, even before the President went on. Daryaei, too, was watching the President’s speech, as much from pure curiosity as political advantage. What sort of man was this Ryan, really? he’d wondered so long. Too late, he found out.
“THIS IS WHERE he lives, Mahmoud Haji Daryaei, the man who attacked our country with disease, the man who attacked my child, the man who tried to attack me, the man who sent his army on a mission of conquest that turned into a mission of death. He is a man who has defiled his religion and the laws of men and nations, and now, Mr. Daryaei, here is the reply of the United States of America.”
THE PRESIDENT’S VOICE stopped, and a second or two later, so did translations all over the world, replaced only by silence, as eyes watched an ordinary black-and-white picture of a quite ordinary building—and yet everyone knew that something extraordinary was about to happen. Those looking very closely saw a light go on in a window, and the front door open, but no one would ever know the identity of the person who might have been attempting to leave, because both weapons fell true, struck the roof of the building, and went off a hundredth of a second later.
THE NOISE WAS awful. The passing pressure wave was worse. Both men watched, ignoring the danger. The echoes were punctuated by the tinkle of glass from half a mile around.
“You okay?” Ding asked.
“Yeah. Time to boogie, partner.”
“Fuckin’ A, Mr. C.”
They got down to the bedroom level as quickly as possible. Chavez cut most of the way through the cords with a pocket knife. He figured it would take them about five minutes to work themselves free. The alleys allowed them to drive from the area, and keep out of the way of emergency vehicles, which screamed their way to the remains of the three buildings. Half an hour later, they were back in the safety of the Russian embassy. Vodka was offered. Vodka was drunk. Chavez had never experienced so bad a case of the shakes. Clark had. The vodka helped.
“TO THE PEOPLE of the United Islamic Republic, the United States of America says this:
“First, we know the exact location of the germ-warfare factory. We have asked for and received the help of the Russian Federation. They are neutrals in our dispute, but they have knowledge of this type of weapon. A team of technical experts is now on its way to Tehran. They will land, and you will take them immediately to the facility to supervise its neutralization. They will be accompanied by journalists for an independent verification of the facts. If this does not happen, then twelve hours from now we will destroy the site with a low-yield nuclear bomb to be delivered by a Stealth aircraft. Do not make the mistake of thinking that I am unwilling to give that order. The United States of America will not tolerate the existence of that facility and its inhuman weapons. The twelve-hour period starts now.
“Second, your prisoners will be treated in full accordance with international convention, and also the stern and admirable laws of hospitality which are part of your Islamic faith. Your prisoners will be returned as soon as you deliver to the United States the living bodies of every single person who had a role in preparing and delivering those weapons to our country, and those behind the attack on my daughter. On that there will be no compromise.
“Third, we will give your country a week to comply with this requirement. If you do not, then America will declare and wage unlimited war. You have seen what we can do, what we have done. I assure you that, if we have to, we can do more still. The choice is yours to make. Choose wisely.
“Finally, and I say this to all nations who may wish us ill, the United States of America will not tolerate attacks on our country, our possessions, or our citizens. From this day forward, whoever executes or orders such an attack, no matter who you are, no matter where you might hide, no matter how long it may take, we will come for you. I have sworn an oath before God to execute my duties as President. That I will do. To those who wish to be our friends, you will find no more faithful friend than we. To those who would be our enemies, remember that we can be faithful at that, too.
“My fellow Americans, it has been a hard time for us, for some of our allies, and for our enemies as well. We have defeated aggression. We have punished the person most guilty for the cruel deaths in our land, and we will have a reckoning also with those who followed his orders, but for the rest, let us now recall the words of President Abraham Lincoln:
“ ‘With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation’s wounds ... to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves, and with all nations.’
“Thank you, and good day.”
EPILOGUE:
PRESS ROOM
“... AND FINALLY, I AM SUBMITTING to the Senate the name of Dr. Pierre Alexandre to fill the post of Surgeon General. Dr. Alexandre, after a distinguished career in the United States Army Medical Corps, then joined the Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine as an associate professor in the area of infectious disease. He was very helpful to me during the Ebola outbreak. Dr. Alexandre is a brilliant clinician and researcher who will initiate and oversee several new programs, including basic research in rare infectious diseases, and will also head up a new federal oversight commission to coordinate AIDS research. This will not be bureaucratic,” the President said, “there’s enough of that. The idea here is to set up a new system by which physicians and other research scientists can more easily exchange research data. It is my hope that the Senate will see quickly to confirmation of his appointment.
“That concludes my opening statement.” Jack pointed. “Yes, Helen?”
“Mr. President, your opening remarks on China—”
“I thought I made that clear. We have had private discussions with the Republic of China and concluded that the restoration of full diplomatic relations is in the best interests of both our countries. It is not the policy of the United States to discourage countries with freely elected governments. The Republic of China is such a country, and merits our full respect and recognition.”
“But what will mainland China think of this?”
“What they think is their affair. We are both sovereign nations. So is Taiwan, and it’s time we stopped pretending otherwise.”
“Does this have anything to do with the shoot-down of the airliner?”
“That matter is still under investigation. Next?” Ryan pointed.
“Mr. President, the new Iranian provisional government is reportedl
“Yes, we certainly will,” Jack replied. “If there’s a better way to turn an enemy into a friend than by open discussion and trade, I don’t know what it is. They have been very cooperative, and we still have an embassy building there, but I suppose we’ll have to change the lock on the front door.” There was general laughter. “Yes, Tom. Nice tan, by the way. Welcome home.”
“Mr. President, thank you. Regarding the destruction of the germ-warfare lab outside Tehran, the only journalists who ever got in there were those two Russians that their embassy drafted for the purpose. How can we be sure—”
“Tom, the Russian experts who supervised the neutralization of the facility were indeed experts. We have video of their procedures from the reporters, and both I and my consultants on this matter are fully satisfied. Ed?”
“Mr. President, the prisoner exchange is now concluded. How will we respond to Iranian and Iraqi requests for credit?”
“Secretaries Adler and Winston will be flying to London next week to discuss this with representatives of both governments.”
“Sir, a follow-up, will this mean preferential prices for imported oil, and if so, for how long?”
“Ed, those are subjects for negotiation, but I suppose they will offer us something in return for the credit approval they desire. The exact details will have to be worked out, and we have two very good men to handle that for us.”
“What about good women?” a female reporter asked.
“We have a lot of those around, Denise, including yourself. In case you haven’t heard, Special Agent Andrea Price”—POTUS gestured toward the door at his right—“has accepted a proposal of marriage. It will be a mixed marriage, however, as her fiancé, Inspector Patrick O’Day, is a special agent in the FBI. I wish them the very best, even if it means I may need a new bodyguard. Yes, Barry,” he said, pointing to the senior CNN reporter. “So the big question that nobody has asked yet today, Mr. President—”
Ryan held up his hand. “There is so much—so many things yet to be done just to get the government fully functional again after all we’ve been through—”
“Sir, we’re not going to let you off the hook.”
A smile. A sigh. A nod. A surrender. “The answer to your question, Barry, is, yes, I will.”
“Thank you, Mr. President.”
It is now the moment when by common consent we pause to
become conscious of our national life and to rejoice in it, to
recall what our country has done for each of us, and to ask
ourselves what we can do for our country in return.
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES, JR.
Tom Clancy, Executive Orders
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