Executive orders - Tom Clancy [349]
The admiral is correct, sir, the briefing officer went on. In 1990, when the Iraqis jumped into Kuwait, they went about as far as their logistical tail allowed. They had to stop to replenish.
That's part of it. Tell him the other part, Jackson ordered.
After a pause of from twelve to twenty-four hours, they were ready to move again. The reason they didn't was political.
I always wondered about that. Could they have taken the Saudi oil fields?
Easy, the colonel said. He must have thought a lot about that in later months, the officer added without sympathy.
So, we have a threat here? Bretano was asking simple questions and listening to the answers. Jackson liked that. He knew what he didn't know, and wasn't embarrassed about learning things.
Yes, sir. These three corps represent a potential striking force about equal in power to what Hussein used. There would be other units involved, but they're just occupying forces. That's the fist right here, the colonel said, tapping the map with his pointer.
But it's still in their pocket. How long to change that?
A few months at minimum to do it right, Mr. Secretary. It depends most of all on their overall political intentions. All of these units are individually trained up to snuff by local standards. Integrating their corps staffs and organizations is the real task ahead for them.
Explain, Bretano ordered.
Sir, I guess you could call it a management team. Everybody has to get to know everybody else so that they can communicate properly, start thinking the same way.
Maybe it's easier to think of it as a football team, sir. Robby took it further. You don't just take eleven guys and put them in a huddle together and expect them to perform properly. You have to have everybody reading out of the same playbook, and everybody has to know what everybody else is able to do.
SecDef nodded. So it's not the hardware we're worried about. It's the people.
That's right, sir, the colonel said. I can teach you to drive a tank in a few minutes, but it'll be a while before I want you driving around in my brigade.
That's why you people must love having a new Secretary come in every few years, Bretano observed with a wry smile.
Mostly they learn pretty fast.
So, what do we tell the President?
THE CHINESE AND Taiwanese navies were keeping their respective distances, as though an invisible line were drawn north-south down the Formosa Strait. The latter kept pacing the former, interposing itself between its island home, but informal rules were established and so far none was being violated.
This was good for the CO of USS Pasadena, whose sonar and tracking parties were trying to keep tabs on both sides, all the while hoping that a shooting war wouldn't start with them in the middle. Getting killed by mistake seemed such a tawdry end.
Torpedo in the water, bearing two-seven-four! was the next call from the sonar compartment. Heads turned and ears perked up at once.
Stay cool, the captain ordered quietly. Sonar, Conn, I need more than that! That statement was not quiet.
Same bearing as contact Sierra Four-Two, a Luda II-class 'can, sir, probably launched from there.
Four-Two is bearing two-seven-four, range thirty thousand yards, a petty officer in the tracking party interjected at once.
Sounds like one of their new homers, sir, six blades, turning at high speed, bearing is changing north to south, definite side aspect on the fish.
Very well, the captain said, allowing himself to stay as calm as he pretended to be.
Could be targeted on Sierra-Fifteen, sir. That contact was an old Ming-class submarine, a Chinese copy of the old Russian Romeo-class, a clunker whose design dated from the 1950s which had snorkled less than an hour before to recharge batteries. He's at two-six-one, range about the same. That came from the officer in charge of the tracking party. The senior chief at his left nodded agreement.
The captain closed his eyes and allowed himself a breath. He'd heard the