Debt of Honor - Tom Clancy [321]
The other Americans siting at the table communicated without words and without a look: Hardball. There had scarcely been time for the American team to develop its thoughts and approaches, and Adler had gone further than they'd expected.
"Again," the Ambassador said after his own moment of contemplation, "I find your tone personally regrettable. As you know, my country has legitimate security interests, and has been the victim of unfortunate legal actions which can have no effect other than severe damage to our economic and physical security. Article 51 of the United Nations Charter specifically recognizes the right of any sovereign nation to self-defense measures. We have done no more than that." It was a skillful parry, even the Americans thought, and the renewed request for civility suggested a real opening for maneuver.
The initial discussions went on for another ninety minutes, with neither side budging, each merely repeating words, with hardly a change of phrase. Then it was time for a break. Security personnel opened the French doors to the embassy's elegant garden, and everyone went out, ostensibly for fresh air but really for more work. The garden was too large to bug, especially with a brisk wind blowing through the trees.
"So, Chris, we've begun," Seiji Nagumo said, sipping his coffee—he'd chosen it to show how sympathetic he was with the American position; for the same reason, Christopher Cook was drinking tea.
"What did you expect us to say?" the Deputy Assistant Secretary of State asked.
"The opening position is not surprising," Nagumo conceded.
Cook looked away, staring at the wall that enclosed the garden. He spoke quietly. "What will you give up?"
"Guam, definitely, but it must be demilitarized," Nagumo replied in the same voice. "And you?"
"So far, nothing."
"You must give me something to work with, Chris," Nagumo observed.
"There's nothing to offer, except maybe a cessation of hostilities—before they actually start."
"When will that happen?"
"Not anytime soon, thank God. We do have time to work with. Let's make good use of it," Cook urged.
"I'll pass that along. Thank you." Nagumo wandered off to join a member of his delegation. Cook did the same, ending up three minutes later with Scott Adler.
"Guam, demilitarized. That's definite. Maybe more. That's not definite."
"Interesting," Adler thought. "So you were right on their allowing us to save face. Nice call, Chris."
"What will we offer them back?"
"Gornisch," the Deputy Secretary of State said coldly. He was thinking about his father, and the tattoo on his forearm, and how he'd learned that a 9 was an upside-down 6, and how his father's freedom had been taken away by a country once allied with the owner of this embassy and its lovely if cold garden. It was somewhat unprofessional and Adler knew it. Japan had offered a safe haven during those years to a few lucky European Jews, one of whom had become a cabinet secretary under Jimmy Carter. Perhaps if his father had been one of those fortunate few, his attitude might have been different, but his father hadn't, and his wasn't. "For starters we lean on them hard and see what happens."
"I think that's a mistake," Cook said after a moment.
"Maybe," Adler conceded. "But they made the mistake first."
The military people didn't like it at all. It annoyed the civilians, who had established the site approximately five times as fast as these uniformed boneheads would have managed, not to mention doing it in total secrecy and less expensively.
"It never occurred to you to hide the site?" the Japanese general demanded.
"How could anyone find this?" the senior engineer shot back.
"They have cameras in orbit that can pick up a packet of cigarettes lying on the ground."
"And a whole country to survey." The engineer shrugged. "And we are in the bottom of a valley whose sides are so steep that an inbound ballistic warhead can't possibly hit it without striking those peaks first." The man
pointed. "And now they do not even have the missiles they