Read End Game Online

Authors: Matthew Glass

Tags: #Suspense, #Fiction, #Thrillers

End Game (4 page)

Livingstone looked back at the president. ‘We got the vote in the Security Council, but there’s a lot of resistance. China’s losing face. They’re heavily involved in Sudan and across the entire Central African region, and now we’re coming in there to do this thing and one way of reading it is that implicitly we’re saying, you should have done this yourselves, you could have offered to do it, and now we’re going to come and do it for you.’

‘And what was to stop them?’ demanded Oakley.

‘The Ugandans don’t want Chinese forces on their territory. They don’t want them within a million miles.’

‘And maybe they’ve got good reason. Mr President, we have thirty-nine dead Americans and that’s thirty-nine good reasons for us to go in there and beat the hell out of whoever did it, UN resolution or no resolution. Well, we’ve got a resolution. That’s great. Thanks, Bob. I don’t see why we need anyone’s help.’

‘Because we need help on other things,’ said Livingstone. Diplomatic considerations, he knew, were like water off a duck’s back to John Oakley. ‘The Arctic treaty, the situation in South Africa. Carbon emissions, as always. You name it. There’s a thousand things and you can’t just rule them out of the picture. If we’re going to show leadership on those things we’re going to need support.’

‘Maybe we do better on those things if we show strong leadership on something else first,’ said Gary Rose.

‘Like this?’

‘Yes. Like this. If you ask me, Bob, this is the perfect way to do it.’

Livingstone guessed that the president and Gary Rose had had extensive discussions about the message this intervention would send to the rest of the world. The president hadn’t discussed it with him at all.

‘I’m not sure what we’re going to look like messing around for two months while we try to line up a coalition,’ added Ed Abrahams pointedly.

The president glanced at him, then turned back to Livingstone.

‘Bob,’ he said, ‘I want us to go out and do this thing because it’s a good thing and we should do it. The United States should lead on this. The LRA is an evil in our world and they’ve been given many opportunities to lay down their arms and they haven’t done that. And now they’ve killed a bunch of Americans and the time has come for them to feel our wrath, the anger and power of the civilized world. I don’t see any person who could possibly create an argument against us doing this.’

‘I’m not disputing that,’ said Livingstone. ‘But there are different ways we can do this. We can reach out and try to create a coalition, even reach out to China and Russia–’

Oakley snorted.

‘Even reach out to them,’ persisted Livingstone, ‘and see if they’ll join us. If you go back a little, remember, Russia joined us in Kosovo.’

‘Yeah,’ said Oakley, ‘and do you remember the race for Pristina?’

‘Sounds like it’ll take for fucking ever,’ muttered the vice-president.

‘It will take a little time,’ said Livingstone, ‘that’s true. But I think–’

‘The eighty-odd per cent of Americans who want us to do this don’t want to see us fucking around for six months trying to get two Brits and an Aussie to come join us,’ said Stephenson. ‘They want to see Uncle Sam go in there and get the job done!’

Knowles smiled. He had brought Walt Stephenson, a Florida senator, onto the ticket for his ability to deliver Florida’s electoral college votes. Not for his tact.

‘I understand that,’ said Livingstone, ‘but I do think that–’

‘And we’re not looking for hundreds of thousands of troops, right?’ Stephenson looked at Hale. ‘This is, what, a couple of thousand?’

‘Somewhat more, sir, with the naval contingent.’

‘One carrier strike force.’ Stephenson threw a glance at the president and shrugged dismissively.

‘Nonetheless,’ said Livingstone, still trying to get the point across, ‘if we want to maximize this opportunity, we should take the extra time, build the coalition, and try to keep our relationships good for all the other reasons that we need them.’

‘The alternative view, Bob,’ said Gary Rose, ‘is that bold action, decisive action, does a lot to return us to the leadership position which, frankly, we’ve largely lost over the past few years. It shows the United States doing what it should do, setting out good, solid principles and leading the world in enforcing them. I’d rather see us do the other things from that position.’

‘I think we’re showing that leadership by what we’ve already done in getting the Security Council resolution,’ said Livingstone.

‘And I think you’ll squander it by what you’re suggesting,’ retorted Oakley.

‘Mr President,’ said General Hale, ‘it’s not my role to offer political advice, but in military terms, we can do this much cleaner and quicker if we do it ourselves.’

Livingstone looked at Hale in irritation. They could do it with others if they had to.

There was silence.

The president thought for a moment. ‘I think we can show strength in a coalition, even in this situation. Gary, I do think the United States can show leadership in that context. I don’t think that’s a door we should close right now. Bob, I think you should go out there and try to build a coalition for us. And in the meantime, Admiral Pressler, you should continue to develop the plan in case we have to go it alone. Let’s start talking to whoever we have to talk to in Nairobi.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said the admiral.

There was silence again. Bob Livingstone looked around. Everyone in the room was watching him. He felt like a guy who’d just volunteered to go way, way out on a limb.

‘Mr President, if I’m going to build a coalition, how long have I got?’

The president frowned. ‘I don’t know, Bob. Let’s see how it goes.’

4

IN HER OFFICE
opposite the UN building, Marion Ellman watched the screen.

The statement was being made in the East Room of the White House. Flanking the president were John Oakley, Gary Rose, Bob Livingstone and two men in military uniform. Ellman recognized Mortlock Hale, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. She didn’t recognize the other one, a short, barrel-chested man with close-cropped hair.

The notification that a statement was to be made had come through to her office only an hour earlier. All she knew was that it involved the resolution for action in Uganda.

The president spoke.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. I would like to announce today the United States deployment in response to Security Council resolution 2682, which, as you know, calls on willing parties to assist the government of the Republic of Uganda to combat the terrorist group known as the Lord’s Resistance Army. In the three weeks since the resolution was passed Secretary Livingstone has had numerous discussions with our allies across the world and we are appreciative of the generous support they have offered. It has also become clear to us that what will best serve the interests of the situation is a rapid, active deployment to deal with this problem once and for all. In consultation with the government of Uganda, I have therefore decided to press ahead immediately with a deployment of US forces in an operation that we are calling Jungle Peace.’

Marion Ellman stared at the screen. Immediately? Was that what the president had said? Immediately?

‘The objective of operation Jungle Peace will be as outlined in resolution 2682, namely, to assist the government of the Republic of Uganda to remove the Lord’s Resistance Army from its territory, to apprehend, if possible, its leaders and foot soldiers and to deliver them to justice, and to re-establish conditions of peaceful life in the area previously afflicted by the LRA. In addition, the United States will be providing to the government of Uganda a significant development and aid package to assist reconstruction in the area once Jungle Peace has achieved its objectives, details of which we will release in due course.’

Ellman watched the rest of the statement. The president explained that his decision was motivated not only by the deaths of thirty-nine Americans, but by the longstanding suffering of the people of northern Uganda. It was in America’s interest, he said, to alleviate injustice and oppression wherever it was, because it was in the interest of the United States to have a world that was free, prosperous and untainted by fear. He said the usual things about the grave responsibility of being commander in chief and the deep obligation this imposed to ensure that such a decision wasn’t taken lightly – which it hadn’t been. He thanked the government of the Republic of Kenya and its people for agreeing to facilitate access for US forces and he thanked the allies of the United States who had generously offered to consider joining the operation. Finally he introduced the commander of the operation.

Ellman watched the barrel-chested man, who the president had just named as Admiral Pete Pressler, step forward. He thanked the president for his confidence. He said that the bulk of forces were already in theater, and operations would commence within days.

Forces were
in theater
? Marion Ellman’s disbelief had turned to rage long before the president had finished speaking. Now her anger went incandescent. How long had this been going on? When had American forces arrived in Uganda? When
exactly
had the president made the decision to go it alone?

She looked at the group standing with the president behind Pressler. Bob Livingstone gazed at the admiral, nodding now and again as he spoke.

THE FRENCH AMBASSADOR
to the UN, François Dubigny, was first on the phone. The French had offered six helicopter pilots and a medical team to the coalition effort. Dubigny was an urbane Parisian who couldn’t quite resist a certain male gallantry – or call it chauvinism – whenever they spoke. He chuckled gently.

‘I think, Marion, you have been … how do you call it … a smokescreen, perhaps, for your president?’

Ellman was still boiling, but she wasn’t going to show that to Dubigny. ‘Not at all, François,’ she replied crisply. ‘For the last three weeks I’ve been saying the coalition had to be built quickly. I always said we weren’t going to wait forever.’

That was the line she had to take. It was about the only line she could take without appearing a complete jackass.

‘As you wish,’ said Dubigny. ‘If you ask me, three weeks is not forever. Perhaps your president, however, works to a different timetable, with an election marked at the end of it.’

‘He wants to get things done. He’s not prepared to wait around. I always said that.’

Dubigny chuckled again. ‘
Bon
. Still, I have seen a few smokescreens in my time, and you, Marion, today, much to my regret, very much have the appearance of one.’

She had a lot more conversations that afternoon. Sir Antony Seale, the British ambassador, was predictably indignant. The Brits had offered a contingent of drone pilots to be based at US air force base Creech with the probable intention of learning as much as they could from their American counterparts. Other ambassadors were confused, or angry, and probably secretly relieved. Whatever they really felt, she was in an invidious position. Until the previous day she had been telling these same people the US was looking for a broad coalition and cajoling them to seek a speedy commitment from their leaders.

She let her anger out when she finally spoke with Bob Livingstone. The secretary of state said he had found out about the statement only the previous evening. Marion found that a little hard to believe.

‘Rose sent over a draft of the statement at 10pm last night,’ said Livingstone. ‘That’s the first I heard of it. I spoke to him right away and then I spoke to him again first thing this morning and he said the president was going to do it and if I had any suggestions for the draft, I better get them in. That line about thanking our allies, you can thank me for that.’

‘Is that the best you could do?’

‘Yes, it was. There were a bunch of other lines that didn’t make it. Personally, I’m just glad that one did.’

Ellman was silent. She knew as well as anyone that Livingstone had become an increasingly less important figure in the two years that the administration had been in office, but treatment like this was utter contempt. And it was visible. The details weren’t important – whether the statement had been sent to him at 9pm or 10pm didn’t matter – but anyone watching would know that while Livingstone had been running around trying to build a coalition, the White House had been planning something entirely different. Power in foreign affairs rests with the president. It’s shared by the secretary of state only to the extent that people believe the secretary speaks with the president’s voice. People had already doubted that of Bob Livingstone. Now there wasn’t even a doubt.

If she knew it, Marion realized, Bob would know it even better. She understood he must be hurting. But he was a loyal servant. Even to her, privately, he was unlikely to admit how hurt he must be.

‘What does he gain from this, Bob? Is this a premeditated act to cut us down? I don’t understand how that serves anyone’s interest.’

‘The way Gary explained it to me, Marion, is that Pressler wanted complete surprise. The LRA has enough communications capability to know what’s going on and he wanted them thinking we were slowly building a coalition and they had months to build up supplies and hide themselves out.’

‘Did you know this?’ asked Ellman incredulously.

‘Not till yesterday.’

Ellman laughed.

‘It’s plausible,’ said Livingstone.

‘Sure. And they thought we couldn’t keep it secret.’

‘I guess they figured it might affect the way we went about talking to our allies.’

Marion shook her head. She wondered whether the secretary could possibly believe what he had just said. She liked Bob Livingstone, he was a good, decent man. But he wasn’t hard enough. He gave the benefit of the doubt. He didn’t fight the turf wars.

‘The operation’s already begun,’ said Livingstone. ‘Apparently we’ve had drones doing surveillance for two days.’

‘What’s the rush?’

‘Come on, Marion. You know as well as me. The president wants hits before November 6.’

‘And for that he’s prepared to tick off just about every one of our allies?’

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