Into the Fire

EPILOGUE

A crisp sea breeze snapped the flags at the Broadway Pier in San Diego, California. The pier was a favored location for both civilian and military ceremonies. San Diego was a diverse and cosmopolitan city, but it was still a Navy town. The many hundreds awaiting the proceedings had only to look around. To the west there were two nuclear aircraft carriers moored at Naval Air Station North Island. And but a few hundred yards south, the aircraft carrier USS Midway (CV-41), veteran of almost forty years of conflicts, now served as a floating naval museum.

Moored to either side of the pier were the first two ships of the littoral-combat-ship class, USS Freedom (LCS-1) and USS Independence (LCS-2). Admiral Ben Curtis, the commander of the Navy Region Southwest and the unofficial “Navy mayor of San Diego,” paced nervously at the end of the pier, waiting for the presidential motorcade to arrive. His aide broke the tension as he pointed south to where a line of black sedans and SUVs drove into view. Following a flurry of handshakes and official greetings, Admiral Curtis escorted President Wyatt Midkiff to the podium at the end of the pier. Directly in front of him, Commander Kate Bigelow and her crew stood at attention in their dress-blue uniforms. Behind them were their families, friends, and a great many San Diego residents who simply loved their Navy.

President Midkiff began. “Ladies and gentlemen, friends and family, and most importantly, the gallant crew of USS Milwaukee. We are gathered here today to award the Presidential Unit Citation to USS Milwaukee. Those of you in uniform know, but many of our civilian guests may not know, this high honor is awarded to units of the United States Armed Forces for extraordinary heroism in action against an armed enemy. Few units are even considered for this award. The unit must display gallantry, determination, and esprit de corps in accomplishing its mission under extremely difficult and hazardous conditions. USS Milwaukee has distinguished itself in this regard.” The president turned to Admiral Curtis and said, “Admiral, please read the citation.”

Curtis read the citation. When he was finished, the crowd erupted in thunderous applause. Then the president stepped off the dais and walked up to Kate Bigelow with the Presidential Unit Citation pennant in his hand. Bigelow rendered a sharp salute, and Midkiff handed her the blue, yellow, and red striped pennant.

“Captain, please accept this with the grateful appreciation of our nation.”

“Thank you, Mr. President. I accept this award on behalf of my crew, both those you see standing here with me today and those who we lost in combat. I can only hope this award will bring some measure of comfort to those whose loved ones are not physically present, but are with us in spirit.”

Midkiff was moved and grasped Bigelow’s hand in both of his, shaking it for an extended time. Then he went completely off script and walked through the ranks of Milwaukee’s crew and shook each crew member’s hand. The crowd rose to its feet and sustained its applause until the president was finished. His parting words to Kate Bigelow were, “And I will look forward to seeing you in Washington in a few weeks.”

Once the LCS crew was safely back on American soil and after the North Korean attack on the United Nations was blunted, the president’s national security team went to work. They began the complex task of working to ensure North Korea was put in a box and effectively stripped of its power to attack American or friendly interests in the future. The key to that effort was China. There were weeks of intense, secret negotiations between the world’s two most powerful nations. Ultimately, the two leaders met face-to-face, and President Midkiff and his Chinese counterpart had a remarkably open and candid discussion. China’s premier was forthright with his apologies for indulging North Korea’s territorial ambitions, but he was also candid about that nation’s claim to the oil and gas reserves on the seabed floor. A great deal of these reserves were in North Korean waters, and all of these resources were in what China claimed as its sphere of influence.

The two men hammered out a pact where North Korea would exploit only those waters where they had legal claims recognized by the international community. The oil and gas under other portions of the Yellow Sea would be tapped by an international consortium administered by the United Nations through the International Maritime Organization. China would pay North Korea for the energy they recovered with food, medicine, and nonmilitary assistance. The United States pledged to respect the energy dealings between North Korea and China on a most-favored nation-status, ensuring China could meet its energy needs for the foreseeable future. It was not a perfect solution by any means, but it would have to do for now.

President Midkiff’s cryptic remark to Commander Kate Bigelow that he would “see her in Washington in a few weeks” played out in a ceremony in the Rose Garden. Flanked by her parents, a few close friends, and the chief of naval operations, the president awarded her the Navy Cross, the nation’s second highest decoration for bravery.

Following the short ceremony, President Midkiff drew her to one side. “Commander, sadly USS Milwaukee is no more. You were the last to command the vessel, but your time in command was cut short, was it not? Do you know what’s next for you with the Navy?”

Kate Bigelow’s life had been consumed in dealing with the aftermath of the final days of Milwaukee. This involved after-action reports, personnel issues, and meetings with senior Navy officials. And several publishers had contacted her about the book rights to her story. She had yet to come to a decision on the what-next question. She started to form an answer, only because the president was standing there and she had to say something, when the chief of naval operations spoke up.

“If I may, sir, we have an opening for the commander in the Pentagon on the Joint Staff right now. But we won’t keep her ashore for long, and as soon as her short tour in the Pentagon is over, I know we’ll have an Aegis cruiser in San Diego that needs a good skipper to take the helm.”

The president smiled and nodded while Kate Bigelow tried to suppress more than just a modest smile.

As the meeting was breaking up, a tall urbane man crisply turned out in a Brooks Brothers suit found Kate Bigelow and quietly offered her his congratulations. “I think you have a great future in the Navy, Commander. We need people like you in uniform who aspire to senior leadership positions.”

The man looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place him. But his manner was so soft and reassuring that she couldn’t help herself.

“Thank you, sir, but past command at sea, I’m not sure if I’ll want to stay in the Navy.”

He smiled in understanding. “Well, at least keep an open mind. The Navy needs people like you. But if it doesn’t work out, give me a call.”

He handed her a card and stepped away. The card had but a name and single phone number. It was the name that arrested her: Chase Williams — no title, no blue pennant with four stars signifying his former rank, nothing. When she looked up, she noticed he was now in close consultation with the president.

Within a week after the attempted attack on the United Nations, the National Security Staff, the National Intelligence Community, and the Pentagon were united in their assessment regarding the attempted attack on the United Nations. They agreed the perpetrators of the attack were all North Korean students placed in U.S. colleges over the past several years for the sole purpose of being available to attack America should they be ordered to do so by their masters in Pyongyang.

But that was all they knew. This sleeper cell of young North Korean men and women in America could have included only the five involved in this attempt — the three who were incinerated in the van and the two caught trying to cross the Canadian border just outside Buffalo — or all of those in the United States. There was simply no way of knowing, and aggressive days-long questioning of the two caught at the border yielded no hint of which scenario was correct.

The number of students they were dealing with was not insignificant. Under the auspices of the Choson Exchange, a well-funded nonprofit organization founded by Harvard, Yale, and the University of Pennsylvania, over eighty North Korean students had been placed in colleges throughout the United States. Most were the sons and daughters of North Korea’s elite, who knew better than their nation’s purposely uninformed masses how poor the Hermit Kingdom’s higher education system was.

While some in the Justice Department questioned the wisdom — let alone the legality — of rounding up every North Korean student in the United States, deporting them in mass, and thus destroying a program that had been established to initiate at least a small dialogue and opening with North Korea, the president was adamant. The threat to the security of the United States was just too great if even one potential dedicated assassin remained on U.S. soil. He signed the presidential executive order without trepidation or regret.

Three days after the executive order was signed, after an exhaustive search of all databases containing the locations of these students, agents of the Immigration and Naturalization Service and the FBI — assisted by local police — rounded up every North Korean student in America, escorted them to waiting aircraft, and abruptly cut short their stay in America.

The crew of USS Milwaukee was granted a liberal amount of leave after returning to the United States. Following their return to duty, they were provided with counseling and debriefing sessions not unlike those reserved for prisoners of war. As their ship was no more, the Navy’s personnel bureau worked to reassign each crew member to a new command, accommodating their professional and personal preferences where they could.

Commander Jack O’Connor was one of those, but his situation was different — and not an easy one. While Kate Bigelow had nearly completed her command tour, the loss of Milwaukee left him waiting in the wings for command. O’Connor had done an enormous amount of soul searching and had reached out to Kate Bigelow. At his request, they had met to discuss his future. O’Connor had taken himself out of consideration for command at sea. She was surprised he would give up the chance for a sea command, since for her it was so very important — no, more than important; it was everything. And she was relieved, since she could never have recommended him for command. Jack O’Connor had elected to take a lateral transfer to the Navy Acquisition Corps. He was offered an assignment in the Naval Sea Systems Command in the Littoral Ship Program Office, where he would have a role in bringing additional LCS-class ships into the Navy fleet.

Several weeks later, President Wyatt Midkiff and his national security advisor met in the Oval Office. Midkiff had just returned from his favorite vacation spot — Sun Valley, Idaho — and was relaxed and refreshed. The weeklong ski vacation had been a tonic the exhausted chief executive had sorely needed. Trevor Harward had instigated the vacation by convincing the first lady the president needed — sorely needed — this break.

The president was a good enough leader that he paid attention to the behind-the-scenes work of loyal subordinates. “Trevor,” he began, “it’s not lost on me the first lady didn’t come up with the idea of this Sun Valley vacation all on her own. I appreciate you caring about my health, both my physical and emotional health, as much as about my ability to do my job and lead our nation.”

“Guess you can sniff out even the most well-planned conspiracy, Mr. President,” Harward replied, smiling. “Looks like we’ll have to up our game in the future to try to keep our little secrets secret. But I think if you’ll look back on the days since you took the oath on the Capitol steps, you’ve had more crises to deal with than perhaps any president since FDR.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Trevor, but let’s leave it at I’m glad to be back in the saddle and getting back to work. We still have a lot to do to keep the promises we made to the American people during our campaign.”

“We do, Mr. President. But before we get too deep into the things on our domestic agenda, there’s something we should talk about that’s going on beyond our shores because it’s something that could reach us well before we’re ready to deal with it.”

The president shifted uneasily in his chair as Harward powered up his secure iPad and brought up a map.