Balance of Power

NINETEEN

Intellectually, Paul Hood knew that the United Nations was a good idea. But emotionally, he did not have much respect for the institution. It had proven itself ineffective in war and largely ineffective in peace. It was a forum for posturing, for making accusations, and for getting a nation’s views into the press with the best possible spin.

But he had a great deal of admiration for the cool-headed new Secretary-General, Massimo Marcello Manni of Italy. A former NATO officer, senator in the Italian parliament, and ambassador to Russia, Manni had worked mightily the previous year to keep Italy from tumbling into the kind of civil war for which Spain seemed headed.

At Manni’s request, a teleconference had been arranged for 11:00 P.M. by National Security head Steve Burkow. Secretary-General Manni had been talking to the intelligence and security chiefs of all the Security Council nations to discuss the deteriorating situation in Spain. Burkow, Carol Lanning at the State Department, and new Central Intelligence Director Marius Fox — the cousin of Senator Barbara Fox — would be in on the call.

Shortly before Burkow’s office called at 8:50, Hood had already informed Bob Herbert and Ron Plummer that he wanted Darrell to remain in Madrid and Aideen to stay in the field.

“If Spain is coming apart,” Hood told his team, “then HUMINT is more important than ever.” Hood asked Herbert to make sure that Stephen Viens remained in contact with his loyal colleagues at the Pentagon-based National Reconnaissance Office. Viens was a longtime friend of Op-Center’s Matt Stoll and had always been a steadfast ally during all previous surveillance efforts. Though Viens had been temporarily relieved of his NRO duties because of an ongoing Senate investigation into funding abuses, Hood had quietly given him an office at Op-Center. Unlike most people in Washington, Hood believed in repaying devotion. The NRO had begun conducting satellite reconnaissance of military movements in Spain some forty minutes before. Hood wanted that photographic surveillance to become part of Herbert’s database. He also wanted copies of the pictures sent to McCaskey in Spain, via the U.S. Embassy in Madrid, and to the Striker team, which was airborne. At other intelligence organizations in Washington, department heads tended to covet information to give their groups an edge. But Hood believed in sharing information among his people. To him and to the unique personnel working with him, the job was not about personal glory. It was about protecting Americans and national interests.

In addition to satellite reconnaissance, Op-Center drew on international news reports for information. Raw TV footage was especially valuable. It was plucked from satellite feeds before it could be edited for broadcast. The uncut footage was then analyzed by Herbert’s team and also by Laurie Rhodes in the Op-Center photographic archives. Often, camouflaged weapons bunkers were constructed well prior to military actions. While these facilities might not always be visible from space, they often showed up in slightly altered topography, which could be seen in comparative studies from the ground.

Hood took a short dinner break in the commissary, where he read the Sunday comics someone had left lying around. He hadn’t looked at them in a while and he was amazed at how little they’d changed from when he was a kid. Peanuts and B.C. were still there, along with Tarzan and Terry and the Pirates and The Wizard of Id. It was comforting, just then, to visit with old friends.

After dinner, Hood had a short briefing from Mike Rodgers in the general’s office. Rodgers told him that Striker would reach Madrid shortly after 11:30 A.M., Spanish time. Options for Striker activities would be presented to Hood as soon as they were available.

After the briefing, Hood checked in with the night crew. While the day team continued to monitor the Spanish situation, Curt Hardaway, Lt. Gen. Bill Abram, and the rest of the “P.M.Squad,” as they called themselves, were overseeing the routine domestic and international activities of Op-Center. Lieutenant General Abram, who was Mike Rodgers’s counterpart, was especially busy with the Regional Op-Center. The mobile facility had been returned from its Middle East shakedown and was undergoing repair work and fine tuning. Everything was under control. Hood returned to his office to try to rest.

He shut off the light, threw off his shoes, and lay back on his couch. As he stared at the dark ceiling his mind went to Sharon and the kids. He glanced at his luminous watch — the one Sharon had bought him for their first anniversary. They would be coming into Bradley International soon. He played with the notion of borrowing an army chopper and flying up to Old Saybrook. He’d buzz his in-laws and use a megaphone to beg his wife to come home. He would be dismissed for all that but what the hell. It would give him plenty of time to stay home with the family.

Of course Hood had no intention of doing that. He was romantic enough to want to play the modern-day knight, but he wasn’t reckless enough. And why bother going up to Old Saybrook if he couldn’t promise to slow down? He liked his work. And shorter hours were something the job just wouldn’t permit. Part of him felt that Sharon was being vindictive because she’d had to cut way back on her career activities in order to raise the kids. But even if he’d wanted to stop working and raise a family — which he didn’t — they couldn’t have lived on Sharon’s salary. That was a fact.

He shut his eyes and dropped his arm across them. But facts don’t always matter in situations like this, do they?

Hood’s mind was too busy to allow him to sleep. He alternated between feeling angry, guilty, and utterly disgusted. He decided to give up trying to rest.

He made himself a pot of coffee, poured it black into his memorial WASHINGTON SENATORS baseball mug, and went back to his desk. He spent some time with the computer files of Manni’s Italian secessionist movement. He was curious to see what, if any, intelligence work had been done to stopgap the collapse of Italy.

There was nothing on file. It was a nearly six-year-long process, which began in 1993 as an offshoot of voter unhappiness over increasing political corruption scandals. Smaller communities claimed that they weren’t being adequately represented and so members of parliament were elected from individual districts rather than through proportional representation as before. That caused a fragmentation of power among the major parties which allowed smaller groups to flourish. Neo-Fascists came to power in 1994, business interests of the Forza Italia party wrested power from them a year later, and then the fall of Yugoslavia caused unrest all along the Istrian Peninsula in the north — unrest that the Rome-based Forza Italia was ill equipped to handle. For help the premier turned to parties that had a power base there. But those groups were interested in building their own strength and fanned the rebelliousness. Violence and secessionist talk flourished in Trieste and moved west to Venice and slingshot south as far as Livorno and Florence.

The Milan-born Manni was recalled from Moscow to try to negotiate a fix to the deteriorating situation. His solution was to draft a pact that made northern Italy a largely autonomous political and economic region, with a congressional government in Milan to replace the bloc in the parliament in Rome. Both groups worked independently with the elected premier. While the Italians above the Northern Apennines paid taxes to their own capital, they used the same currency as the south; the two regions remained militarily intact; and the nation was still referred to as Italy.

No military action was taken by Rome and no foreign intelligence services were involved to any great extent. The Italian Entente, as it was called, provided no model for the situation in Spain. And they lacked the one thing that had made Manni’s efforts workable: he was only dealing with two factions, north and south. The Spanish conflict involved at least a half dozen ethnic groups who had rarely if ever been comfortable together.

The call came through ten minutes late. Hood called Rodgers in to listen on the speakerphone. As Rodgers arrived and took a seat, Manni was explaining in English that the reason he was late was because Portugal had just asked the United Nations for help.

“There has been violence along the border between Salamanca and Zamora,” Manni said.

Hood glanced at the map on his computer. Salamanca was located just below Zamora in central and northwestern Spain. Together, the regions shared about two hundred miles of border with Portugal.

“The unrest began about three hours ago when anti-Castilians held a candlelight rally at the Postigo de la Traición — the Traitor’s Gate. That’s the spot by the city wall where the Castilian king Sancho II was assassinated in 1072. When police attempted to break up the rally, stones and bottles were thrown and the police fired several shots into the air. Someone in the crowd fired back and an officer was wounded. The police are mostly Castilian and they immediately turned on the ralliers — not as peacekeepers but as Castilians.”

“With guns?” Hood asked.

“I’m afraid so,” said Manni.

“Which is like dropping a lighted match on gas,” said hawkish National Security advisor Burkow.

“Mr. Burkow, you are correct,” said Manni. “Like a firestorm, riots spread westward to Portugal. The police called for military help from Madrid and it is being provided. But Lisbon is concerned that they may not be enough to contain the fighting and also to stop refugees from crossing the border. They’ve just asked the United Nations to create a buffer zone.”

“How do you feel about Portugal’s request, Mr. Secretary-General?” Carol Lanning asked.

“I am opposed,” he replied.

“I don’t blame you,” said Burkow. “Lisbon’s got an army, an air force, and a navy. Let them field a force.”

“No, Mr. Burkow,” Manni said. “I am uneasy about having any army on the border. Placing a force there would legitimize the crisis. It would acknowledge that a crisis exists.”

“Doesn’t it?” Lanning asked.

“It does,” Manni agreed. “But to millions of Spaniards the crisis is still a highly localized one. It’s a provincial matter, not a national or international one. And officially, it is still under control. If they learn that an army is gathered on the border — any army — there will be misinformation, confusion, and panic. The situation will become even worse.”

“Mr. Manni,” Burkow said tensely, “this may all be academic. Are you aware that Prime Minister Aznar has spoken with President Lawrence and asked for a U.S. military presence offshore?”

“Yes,” Manni said, “I am aware of this. Ostensibly, the force is there to defend and evacuate American tourists in the wake of the killing.”

“Ostensibly,” Burkow agreed.

“Has the President made a decision?”

“Not yet,” said Burkow, “but he’s leaning toward it. He’s waiting for intelligence to determine whether American interests are, in fact, in danger. Paul? Marius? Do either of you have anything to say about that?”

Being the senior official, Hood answered first. “Except for the attack against Martha — or perhaps because of it — there have been no reports of additional hostilities against American tourists,” he said. “Nor do we expect there to be. The people of Spain will be extremely sensitive about straining relations further. Besides, whatever the region, Spain’s economy depends upon tourism. It’s very unlikely that they’ll want to do anything to jeopardize that. As for additional political attacks against Americans, we all know that Martha was assassinated because she worked for Op-Center. We believe that she was murdered as a singular warning to the United States not to do exactly what we’re discussing: become involved in Spanish politics. As long as we keep our distance, politically and militarily, we don’t expect any more such attacks.”

“Paul’s on the money about the tourist situation,” Marius said. “We’ve been very carefully monitoring the actions of the Spanish police and military. They respond very quickly to put down violence in popular tourist centers. Of course,” he added, “that may change if the conflict takes on a life of its own or if the police are provoked the way they were at the Traitor’s Gate.”

“Which,” Burkow interrupted, “is the heart of the matter. It’s the reason the President is considering sending troops. There’s a point in every internal conflict when protest becomes open warfare. When emotion takes over from common sense. When expectations change from ‘I want to preserve my economy’ to ‘I want to preserve my life.’ When that happens—”

“If it happens,” Manni pointed out.

“Fine,” Burkow said. “If it happens, tourists — American and otherwise — will have no one looking out for them.”

As Burkow was speaking, Hood received a secure e-mail message from McCaskey. He motioned Rodgers over as it came through. They read it together.

Paul, it read. Field Ops report Basque yacht bomber murdered by Catalonian team. FOs going to talk to hit squad. Assessment: motive was revenge, not politics. I’ve warned FOs that one of them may still be in danger if she’s recognized as survivor of the MM situation. She doesn’t think these people are carrying on that agenda. I’m inclined to agree that circumstances have changed. Inform if you want her recalled.

The yacht bomber apparently was backed by army general named Amadori. Checking on him now. Not surprisingly, local NATO files on the general appear to have been purged.

Hood sent an acknowledgment along with his congratulations to Aideen and María for their intelligence work. He didn’t like the idea of her being out there with members of the team that had had Martha killed. Especially after having inadvertently left her and Martha open to the attack in the first place. But María was a crack agent. With her there to back Aideen — and vice versa — Hood informed Darrell to let the women make the call.

“Mr. Burkow,” Manni said, “your concerns are well founded. But I believe we should wait to see whether the Spanish government can put this down themselves.”

“So far, they haven’t exactly instilled confidence,” Burkow said. “They couldn’t even keep Deputy Serrador alive long enough to interrogate him.”

“Mistakes were made,” Manni agreed. “Everyone was caught off guard. But we mustn’t compound those mistakes.”

“Paul Hood here. What do you recommend, Mr. Secretary-General?”

“My advice, Mr. Hood, is to give the prime minister another day to work things out. He has called in his military advisor on civil unrest and they’re drawing up a plan to deal with all possible contingencies.”

Rodgers leaned toward the phone. “Sir, this is General Mike Rodgers, Deputy Director of Op-Center. If the prime minister or his officers need any military or intelligence support, my office is prepared to offer it very, very quietly.”

“Thank you, General Rodgers,” said Manni. “I will certainly inform Prime Minister Aznar and General Amadori of your generous offer.”

Hood was looking at Rodgers as Manni spoke. Something passed between them at the mention of Amadori’s name — a rapid and unexpected deflation of spirit visible in their eyes, a moment of numb paralysis in their limbs. Hood felt like a predator who suddenly realized that his prey was much smarter, more feral, and far deadlier than he’d expected.

The paralysis passed quickly. Hood hit the mute button. “Mike—”

“I know,” Rodgers said, already rising. “I’m on it.”

“If it’s the same man,” Hood said, “they’ve got some very serious problems over there.”

“Spain does,” Rodgers said, “along with every nation that’s going to want to get its people out of there in a hurry.”

As Rodgers hurried from the office Hood listened, disinterested, to the political jabber between Manni, Burkow, and Lanning. They agreed about how they needed to let Spain solve this situation themselves but with a level of vocal support from the U.S. which would be heard by the feuding factions and could be ratcheted up to a military presence if necessary. A military presence that could become defensive action but that was actually offense designed at helping to preserve the legitimate government of Spain—

It was all very necessary, Hood knew, but only in terms of posturing — like the United Nations itself. The real work was going to be done over the next few hours as they tried to figure out whether Amadori was behind the unrest. And, if so, how far he had gone in undermining the government. If he hadn’t gone too far, U.S. intelligence and the military would have to work with Spanish leaders to figure out how to stop him. That would be difficult to do quietly, but it could be done. There were templates for that kind of containment in Haiti, Panama, and other nations.

But it was the alternative that concerned Hood. The possibility that, like a cancer, Amadori’s influence had spread far into the workings of the nation. If that were the case, then it might not be possible to remove the general without killing the patient. The only model for that was the collapse of Yugoslavia, a struggle in which thousands of people died and the sociopolitical and economic ramifications were still being felt.

Spain had nearly four times the population of Yugoslavia. It also had friends and enemies in neighboring nations. If Spain came apart the unrest could easily spread throughout Europe. The breakup could also set an example for other melting-pot nations such as France, the United Kingdom, and Canada.

Perhaps even the United States.

The call ended with an agreement that the Secretary-General’s staff would provide hourly updates to the White House, and that Burkow would inform Manni of any changes in administration policy.

Hood hung up the phone feeling more helpless than he had since he’d first joined Op-Center. He’d had missions go right and missions go wrong. His team had thwarted terrorists and coups. But he’d never faced a situation that threatened to set the tone for a new century: the idea that fragmentation was the norm rather than the exception and that nations as the world knew them could very well be on the brink of extinction.