Executive orders - Tom Clancy [255]
So, essentially we gather intelligence information and do nothing substantive? the SecDef asked.
Gathering intelligence is substantive, sir, but, yes.
Bretano smiled. I know. I built the satellites you'll be using. What will they tell us?
We'll probably get a lot of in-the-clear chatter that'll use up every Mandarin-speaker they have at Fort Meade and tell us not very much about their overall intentions. The operational stuff will be useful-it'll tell us a lot about their capabilities. If I know Admiral Mancuso-COMSUBPAC-he'll have one or two of his boats play a little fast and loose to see if the Chinese can acquire one and prosecute it, but nothing overt. That's one of our options if we don't like the way this exercise is going.
What do you mean?
I mean if you really want to put the fear of God in a naval officer, you let him know there's a submarine around-which is to say, Mr. Secretary, one appears unexpectedly in the middle of your formation and immediately disappears again. It's a head game, and a nasty one. Our people are good at that, and Bart Mancuso knows how to use his boats. We couldn't have defeated the Japanese without him, Jackson said positively.
He's that good? Mancuso was just a name to the new SecDef.
None better. He's one of the people you listen to. So's your CINCPAC, Dave Seaton.
Admiral DeMarco told me-
Sir, may I speak freely? the J-3 asked.
Jackson, in here that's the only way.
Bruno DeMarco was made Vice Chief of Naval Operations for a reason.
Bretano got it at once. Oh, to give speeches and not do anything that can hurt the Navy? Robby's reply was a nod. Noted, Admiral Jackson.
Sir, I don't know much about industry, but there's something you need to learn about this building. There's two kinds of officers in the Pentagon, operators and bureaucrats. Admiral DeMarco has been here for more than half of his career. Mancuso and Seaton are operators, and they try very hard to stay out of this building.
So have you, Bretano observed.
I guess I just like the smell of salt air, Mr. Secretary. I'm not polishing my own apple here, sir. You'll decide if you like me or not-what the hell, I'm out of the flying business anyway, and that's what I signed up to do. But, damn it, when Seaton and Mancuso talk, I hope you'll listen.
What's the matter with you, Robby? the SecDef asked with sudden concern. He knew a good employee when he saw one.
Jackson shrugged. Arthritis. Runs in the family. Could be worse, sir. It won't hurt my golf game, and flag officers don't get to fly very much anyway.
You don't care about getting promoted, do you? Bretano was about to recommend another star for Jackson.
Mr. Secretary, I'm the son of a preacher man in Mississippi. I got into Annapolis, flew fighters for twenty years, and I'm still alive to talk about it. All too many of his friends were not, a fact Robby never forgot. I can retire whenever I want and get a good job. I figure I'm ahead of the game whatever happens. But America's been pretty good to me, and I owe something back. What I owe, sir, is to tell the truth and do my best and screw the consequences.
So you're not a bureaucrat, either. Bretano wondered what Jackson's degree was in. He sure talked like a competent engineer. He even smiled like one.
I'd rather play piano in a whorehouse, sir. It's more honest work.
We're going to get along, Robby. Put a plan together. Let's keep a close eye on the Chinese.
Actually, I'm just supposed to advise and-