Tempered Steel

Chapter 6

The Joint Chiefs stood when the President entered. He came in with Butler and the Secret Service agents in constant companionship. “Please be seated,” he said as he took his seat.

“Gentlemen, I called you all here today because things are not going totally as I asked. As you recall, I instructed each of you to come up with plans to be able to engage in a conflict. I said, based on your reports and estimates; that we would probably have to be prepared for at least a sealift and incursion on some foreign soil. I also asked for contingencies to do so in the soonest possible time.” He opened a folder he brought with him. “What I got from some of you was a pretty good start, but from others all I got was an estimate of how many ships and tanks to build, helicopters, aircraft, totaling well over two trillion dollars in one year alone, with the earliest possible start date being one year from now. Gentlemen, this is not good enough.

“What’s more, I have heard from my colleagues on the Hill that some of you have been shaking the tree to get all this paid for, not only without letting me know, but in opposition to what I requested. Gentlemen, never try to out-politic a real politician. General Black, you say you have 90,000 men and materials to sealift wherever needed and can go within 10 days after I say jump.” He smiled at the General. “We won’t have to go that quick,” he said with a grin. “You also recommended we take the ready force out of Diego Garcia and some of our European assets to provide the tanks and support. That’s a good idea. Quick and dirty.”

Then he turned to the Coast Guard Admiral. “Admiral your forces are ready with a few exceptions and you say here you don’t anticipate any problems with your current mission. Let me ask you, can your guys pull some escort duties if we need you?”

The admiral thought a moment. “Sir, we never have had much in the way of deep ocean equipment. My cutters are not all that big, but there are twelve of them if you need them. They weren’t affected by the EMP except for the electronics. Right now I have them using Morse and signal lights. We can cut out the drug interdiction and some of the mundane tasks and go wherever you need. The rest are coastal only.”

“What about helos?”

“Now there’s a problem. I can get about two-thirds of them up, but again it’s a radio thing. Once some of those NATO sets arrive, I can replace the basics and make due. Our birds just aren’t as high tech as the others. I do have a flock of old C-130s for coastal patrol. We can set some watches along the coasts. Won’t be much, but at least there’ll be some eyes overhead,” he said grinning.

“Nice work. Let’s start some of those patrols around the major ports as soon as we can.”

“They will be starting tomorrow sir. I kind of anticipated that.”

“Good. Now General Foote. I see you have been talking to some of my staff,” he chuckled. Butler had told him about the telephone call between Foote and Hammond after the trip to Norfolk. “How was your enquiry?”

Foote seemed to swell. He had been stumped by his politicking staffers until he talked to Hammond and heard his idea. From that point on, he was in the pilot’s seat and enjoying the hell out of it. “It’s still going to take some time, sir. But I have been assured by the people at Davis-Monthan that they can get 100 B-52s back online within 90 days if they pull out all stops. It will take longer if we do a full load, but I suggest we do just that. I want all the 52s, the F-4s, the 15s and 16s, and Warthogs they can spool up, and we can even include a bunch of others if the Navy wants them,” he said. “I talked to the CO and he is doing what the shipyards are doing, calling in everybody that can turn a screwdriver,” he said beaming. “I can probably have some equipment in the air at about the 50-day mark with a hell of a lot more a month or two after that. Your man had a great idea.”

“Yes he did. So as I take it, we can drop a lot of dumb bombs and a few of the more high tech, but the big stuff will have to wait.”

“That’s exactly right, Mister President. I have pilots behind the throttles and these older planes are not fly-by-wire. I’ll need to train them a little, but we will give more than we take.”

The President smiled at the man. He was really enjoying this. Then he turned to the last two men at the table. “Ok, I have a Marine Corps, and Air Force, and a Coast Guard. What about my Army and Navy?”

Both men knew their days were numbered by the way he asked the question. The Army general answered first. “Mister President, I have troops that can go anywhere, but I won’t send them into combat without the proper support. All my helos are down except for the ones in Europe and the Middle East. The tanks are electronically controlled and supported. My communications gear is non-existent and things like handheld missiles are worthless. Even the Paladins are computer guided. My suppliers say they are trying to get some boards made up as spares, but that takes a lot of time. Then I need to retrofit the machines so they won’t be affected by EMP again. We are talking months for the parts, then gearing up, training, all that needs to be done to be ready — eight months at the earliest.”

The President almost scowled at the man. Then he turned to the admiral. “And the Navy?”

The admiral had already been dreading this one. The word quickly came back to him on how the President handed Granger his head in Norfolk. Now it was his turn. He took a deep breath. “My ships are sitting inport unable to start or barely able to move. The radars are down, the combat systems are down, and there are no parts that work. If we did get them fixed, and another burst happened, the sailors would be stranded on their own ships. At best, I can field a carrier without planes, a few cruisers and destroyers. I can throw in four old destroyers brought up from some South American country or another, but they are worthless in modern warfare. I still say we need to build while we fix to be ready for anything that comes up.”

The President sighed. “Well, as I said, that’s not good enough. While you gentlemen have been planning on this big party, a few people have been getting some work done. I am here to tell you our enemy is North Korea. I just found out for sure last night. From the briefing I got this morning from the CIA, it looks like they have also initiated ground operations and have crossed the DMZ. Our forces are currently falling back. This little shit of a nation has effectively kicked us in the balls and a couple of you are willing to let him do it until worse happens. Well, not on my watch.”

The President looked at all the men. “We are not going to let this country kill our people, practically destroy our livelihood, and take over an ally because the timing isn’t right or we want to make things perfect. Gentlemen, this nation is going into harm’s way and I need leaders, not politicians. General, Admiral, you are relieved. I will contact your reliefs personally. Thank you for your service.”

The two men rose from their seats and exited the room. The rest of the men paled slightly but maintained their composure. Once the dismissed officers had left the President spoke again.

“Gentlemen, I didn’t like doing that, but I can’t let someone’s ambition or laziness jeopardize this country. I need people who are fast on their feet and can make competent decisions. Do any of you know Admiral Johnson or General Bradley?”

General Black sat back and laughed. “I know both. Johnson is a wiry son of a bitch that gets things done. He got to where he is by being smart,” he chucked. “And choosing someone from Omar’s family is better than a political move. He and I were the ones that thought up the exercises four years ago when we effectively beat the blue forces. He’s smart, crafty, and one mean son of a bitch when he’s pissed off. I can’t think of two better guys.”

Foote agreed. “Bradley worked with me on a project a few years ago. He knows how to lead people and get things done. I’ve never actually worked with Johnson, but I have always heard good things. I doubt you will have much start up time with either of them.”

“Then I will call after this meeting. In the mean time, what can we get short term to Korea?”

“I think it’s up to me,” Foote said. We have men and equipment in Okinawa, Guam, and a few other areas nearby. I have a few B-1s available. Let’s cut orders to transport by best available means all the troops, equipment, and ammo we can to South Korea ASAP. I can fly over the orders, but getting the things moved is something else,” he said.

“Let my staff wrestle with that part,” Black said. “Let me see how many people we are talking about and how much stuff. I’ll get back to you tomorrow afternoon on what we come up with,” he said.

“Good enough. Just remember we need to keep those guys going until we really can get our guys there,” the President urged.

“While we’re on the subject, what exactly did you mean when you said you had some things going on?” Black asked.

The President grinned. “As of this morning, within three months, one 8-inch and one 6-inch gun cruiser, about fourteen destroyers,” he paused for a special effect, “and about seven battleships.”

Black sucked in a breath. “God, I’ve died and gone to heaven. Now I won’t worry about putting my guys on a beach. Whose idea was that?”

“Hammond.”

“I like him. Can I have him when you’re done?”

The President laughed. “All in good time, General. Thank you all for coming in. We have a good start here. Let’s make it better,” he said. The men left the room to start a process that would continue for the next several months.

General Claire Richardson was a busy woman. Upon arrival in Memphis she immediately toured the area to see how much had been done since she had left. It hadn’t been that much, but it was a start.

Within 24 hours the four evacuation areas had been set up with tents and services. Makeshift hospitals were erected and the doctors began their work. Luckily, local physicians were rounded up and lent their help. Triage centers were the first stop for everyone who walked into a camp. Once a diagnosis was made the individual and family were moved into their respective treatment areas. Those not needing treatment were sent to huge tent cities and given work to do. Most of the time this work was either helping move people or to clean up rubble that was not radioactive. The sickest of the people were moved into the university dorms where they could have a stable, clean environment and more dedicated care. In a few days the worst cases were removed to larger centers by train. People wanting to move somewhere to be with relatives were allowed on departing trains or to travel on the roads (if they had an operating car). Most stayed.

By the end of the first week, more than 475,000 people had been evacuated or were in shelters. The medical units were operating and the sick responding to treatment. Those who were well were asked to help start cleaning up the city. They started going through neighborhoods block by block, clearing rubble and hauling it off to landfills. In areas of radiation, federal teams went in with special suits to wash down the materials until the hazard passed, then haul the materials into a central location. Unfortunately, the radiation wouldn’t go away for a few thousand years. Plans were made for putting all the radioactive rubble in the center of what was downtown Memphis and covering it with a concrete dome.

Richardson entered the “Carolinian” railroad car that had been her home and office for the past three weeks. After pulling the curtain on the window, she kicked off her shoes and took off her uniform coat. She had just settled into one of the arm chairs when the telephone rang. It never ends, she thought as she picked up the receiver.

“Damn, Claire, you do good work,” said the booming voice of General Black. Richardson laughed. The two had worked together closely on the project and they were getting to become very good friends.

“Bet your ass. I may even get elected,” she quipped back.

Now it was Black’s turn to laugh. “So I hear,” he said. “I got to tell you, Claire, everyone is impressed as hell up here. You have put them all to shame, lady!”

“Isn’t easy,” she said. “I’m still upset about shooting those looters early on, but it had to be done.”

“That’s right. You made the tough one and it worked. I know I appreciate what you’ve done and I know the President is ready to marry you,” he said.

“Tell him he’s not my type,” she chuckled. “But I appreciate how you both backed me up and got some things down here ASAP when we needed them. It really helped,” she said. Then she turned a little more serious. “Now what has you calling me at 11:30 at night?” she asked looking at her watch.

“Plain and simple. It’s time to quit your cushy job and come back home. I have something going on and I need you here. When can you get back?”

She sat up in the chair. “How soon do you need me? I need to get some word to my people.” She knew this was something serious. Black didn’t make many calls like this.

“Claire, I can’t talk on this phone, but turn things over to your number two and hightail it. The night train should have gotten there. Have them hook up your car and drag you back up here. I’ll send down a replacement.”

“Howard, never mind the replacement. Bostic has his shit together. Let him keep running it. If he starts to lose it, he’ll be the first to call for backup. Is that okay?”

“I’ll cut the orders. Tell him to assume command tomorrow morning. I need you here, Claire. We have work to do,” he said solemnly.

“I should be there tomorrow night then,” she said. Black heard her sigh on the phone. “It was fun while it lasted.”

“Trust me, Claire, you will love what I have in store for you.”

“I’d better,” she quipped. “I’ll see you sometime tomorrow then.”

“Good night, General,” Black said as the line went dead.

Richardson looked down at the handset and then placed it in its cradle. Standing back up, she put her coat back on, opened the rear door and spoke to the sentry. “Get Colonel Bostic and the department heads over here right now, then get some coffee and some snacks ready. We’re going to be here for a few,” she barked.

The sentry saluted and said “Aye, aye sir!” then called for the duty Corporal. In ten minutes the car was abuzz with activity.

It was like a maze. Hufham and Ricks skirted around the mountains, major roads and places where they could hear activity. Late in the third week Hufham eased down a hill toward a wayside gasoline station about 10 miles outside the major city of Chuncheon, far away from the regular roads. It was a nondescript building with an old metal gas pump in the front. The pump looked like it had come from the 1950s with mechanical numbers on the front. After a few instructions, Ricks left the Jeep and made his way around the station while Hufham watched the front and right side. There was a small shack on the far side of the station with no lights showing. Hufham waited in the cover beside the road until he heard a footstep nearby.

Ricks emerged from the grasses beside him and shook his head. “Nothing around the building. There is a family in the small building beyond, I can hear two sets of snoring. No other movement. I could see through a back window to the garage. There’s an old car in there and some tools and supplies, but nothing much else.”

“Okay, the object is to get the Jeep filled and refill our cans. We can’t just drive up and blow the horn,” he chuckled softly. “So the best way is to fill the cans and take a chance we can refill them after topping off the Jeep. Let’s grab a can and do this quietly,” he said as he began easing back toward the spot where the Jeep was hidden.

Ten minutes later the two men eased around the corner of the garage and entered a back door. Getting through the garage was a chore. Cans, tools, and other equipment were scattered everywhere. A couple of times metal could be heard as it dropped to the floor or was kicked. Each time, both men tensed and froze in their steps for a few minutes to make sure they had not been given away. Then they slowly began the process again. Eventually they made it to the front of the store. Behind a small desk there was a fuse box with several switches. Hufham pulled out the flashlight and covered it with his hand. After turning it on, he eased the fingers open just enough to see the switches. They were all marked in Korean. Hufham recognized one set as the pumps. Both were in the “off” position. Praying that he was right, he flipped the switches. He heard some clicks outside near the pumps, but no lights came on. He wasn’t sure what the clicking was, but after only a second it stopped.

They quietly opened the front door and eased to the pump. Hufham looked around at first, then removed the hose and inserted the handle into the top of the first can. “Wrap your arms around this thing to muffle any sound,” he said. Ricks did as he was told and Hufham eased the handle on the side of the machine up.

The pump began to hum as the electric motor came to life. The noise seemed to fill the air although it was barely above a murmur. Ricks could feel the vibrations flow through his arms and body. It was probably a good thing he was holding on — the pump would probably rattle noisily if he didn’t. There was gas in the tanks and it began flowing rapidly into the first five-gallon container. Hufham and Ricks continually scanned the area to make sure they were alone and no one was sneaking up on them.

The first can filled. Hufham removed the handle of the hose and inserted it into the second can. As it started to fill a voice came out of the dark, scaring both nearly out of their shoes. “There are some other cans in the back. You want them too?”

A figure suddenly appeared from the door of the station. “You guys must be hiding from the DPRs,” the figure said. “Well, they are all around here now, so I would stock up and get moving.”

The gas started running over the top of the can. Hufham let go of the handle, stopping the flow. His hand was already on the pistol in his belt. “And who are you?”

They heard a chuckle. “Lee Tai Nu, I own this station. Next time, you might want to look in the little room around the corner from the desk. I have a small bedroom back there,” he said quietly. “The DPRs came through here earlier and passed this place by. There’s a checkpoint they set up about half a mile down that way,” he said pointing down the dirt road. “Let’s get you another can.”

Hufham reinserted the hose handle in the machine and turned the pump off. “How did you know who we were?”

Another chuckle. “The DPRs wouldn’t have been sneaking in. They would just take everything. Come on back.”

Hufham shook his head. He was right. It was pretty obvious. He motioned for Ricks to follow him as they entered the garage and stepped into the room behind the front office. The door was closed and a small light turned on. In front of the two men stood a young man, slightly smaller, but well muscled, his eyes were bright. The young man passed them a blanket. “Hang it over the door,” he said. Ricks took the blanket and did as he was told. There were three nails in the wall that matched holes in the blanket. It effectively blocked the light around the door.

“You know you scared the living shit out of us back there. I was ready to blow your ass off if you hadn’t spoken English,” Hufham said.

The young man smiled. “That’s why I was hiding behind the door sill when I spoke,” he said.

Hufham smiled. “You said something about stocking up?”

The young man walked to a closet and pulled back the curtain. There were cans of food on shelves and dried meat hanging from the ceiling. He looked at Ricks. “There is a wooden crate on the floor. If you can fill the thing up, we can get another couple of cans for more gas.”

“Hold on, partner,” said Hufham. “What’s the deal?”

Lee smiled. “The deal is I come with you. It won’t take long before these cretins find out I was a sergeant in the Army up until a month ago. When they do, my life won’t be worth a pile of dog shit, and you know it. So I am going to collect some things and we are going to get the hell out,” he said lifting the lid on a footlocker. There was his uniform, and an old M-1 with several boxes of ammunition. “It’s my dad’s rifle, and my uniform.”

Hufham held out his hand and Lee handed over the rifle. It was well oiled and could have passed even his inspection. Hufham smiled and tossed the rifle back to the man. “Get dressed quick, sergeant. We will need to be about 20 klicks away before these guys find out you’re gone.

Lee quickly donned his uniform as Ricks packed up the crate with the food and some water bottles. Then the light was turned out and the men silently left the building. Walking quickly, they loaded the Jeep and filled the tank, then went back to refill the cans again. This time, they also brought back two additional cans of gas and put them in the floor of the Jeep.

Hufham turned to Lee. “Okay, now which way should we go?”

Lee glanced down the road. “Can’t go that way, but I know a couple of dirt paths we could use. The word I get is our lines are about 10 miles to the southeast. But I don’t have any idea what’s between here and there.”

“Where are these paths?”

“Let’s go. I’ll show you,” he said getting into the passenger side.

The Jeep started smoothly and pulled back into the road. About 100 yards up, they turned down a narrow alleyway to the left between two houses. At the end of the way, they charged through the bushes, up a narrow path, and out of sight.

Admiral Perry Johnson couldn’t believe the course of events that landed him the position of Chief of Naval Operations. He always tried to do the best he could in any job and had made a reputation of being a good leader. But he thought only the politicians could make it to the exalted rank of Chief of Naval Operations. Now he was ensconced in the Washington Navy Yard at his new quarters. The President had told him to get the Navy ready for war. The first day had mostly been briefings and meetings with departments trying to get him up to speed and to make their own plays for things. Yet despite it all he felt like something was missing.

Now General Black was sitting in an easy chair opposite him. Black had been made Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, so technically he was outranked, but Black had called personally to “have a couple of drinks.” They had known each other for a while and worked together a few times. As a result, a little while was spent swapping sea stories and experiences. After a few laughs the atmosphere turned a little more serious.

“Tell me Perry, have you figured this out yet?” Black asked.

“Are you kidding? I can barely believe I got the call. If the President hadn’t told me personally I would have said it was a joke,” Johnson said. “But nobody has had the gump to tell me what really happened and what is really wanted. Most of these guys today have their own agenda,” he said seriously. Johnson’s eyes fixed on Black’s and began boring into him.

Black didn’t flinch. Now was the time to shoot straight. His eyebrows shot up. “Well, Perry, you deserve the straight poop and that’s what I’m here for.” Both men sat forward slightly. “Your esteemed predecessor was too afraid of thinking out of the box. He saw this tragedy as a way to further his own ideas and not what was needed to get the job done. The President told us all to find ways to get assets online fast and be ready to fight this war. I believe he told you the same thing?” he asked.

Johnson nodded. “Yesterday morning.”

“Thought so. Well, the rest of us are making do with assets we can scrape together that will get the job done, while the Army and Navy chiefs kept screaming for new equipment and lots of time. They were saying they would not send their men into any situation where they had distinct superiority in equipment, planning, and people. Your predecessor told the President he wouldn’t have anything ready for more than a year.”

“Shit. No wonder he was relieved,” Johnson said with a frown. He had watched fair weather admirals make the decisions for years. Now when the country needed leadership, they were waffling. After a moment, he looked back up at General Black. His face had changed and Black had never seen such determination on a face in his life. “Well, that kind of crap won’t happen on my watch, Howie. Our country needs us and we don’t need to screw this up. I think you can count on some changes as of tomorrow morning. My only question is, how many can I fire, and how many can I promote? That’s the problem with a peacetime force; too many bad apples end up in the pie. If we’re going to do this, I want people I can count on.” He paused a second. “By the way, whose idea was it to bring those battleships back?”

Black laughed. “You’d probably like him. A black shoe named Hammond. He was the one that went down to Newport News with Granger just before he got the axe. He and Shranski wheeled and dealed. Of course you know I like the idea. I want those big guns behind me when I go ashore,” he said.

“It wasn’t bad thinking either,” said Johnson. “Power projection at its finest. You know, somebody once told me something about those things that made a lot of sense to me. They said you can send a carrier in, and people wonder at how big it is and all the airplanes it carries. But you can’t tell if it can hurt you. You send one of those battleships off a beach and everybody knows what a gun will do. And by god, those are the biggest guns we ever put on a ship. I also found out Shranski threw in an 8-inch cruiser and a pot full of old destroyers. Howie, with that combination, we can protect your guys hitting the beach and we can keep a 20-mile corridor open around the whole peninsula,” Johnson said with enthusiasm. “In case you hadn’t heard, I talked to the Air Force today. Davis-Monthan is revamping me six squadrons of F-14s and A-6s. When I heard about the battleships, I thought about a couple of other ships that might help out. So they are being fast tracked as well. They should round things out very nicely.”

“Which ships?” Black asked, his curiosity piqued.

‘The Saratoga and the Constellation,” he said. “Yea, I know we have carriers, but these are conventional, not nuclear. I won’t have to worry about these things getting stopped by more EMP or anything else for that matter. I can put these older squadrons onboard and keep the war going until the rest gets back online.”

Black grinned. “You told the President yet?”

Johnson shook his head. “Not yet, do you think he’ll mind?”

That got a chuckle. “He may just kiss you,” Black said taking another sip from his drink. “As far as the hirings and firings, you’re the CNO right?”

That got a nod.

“Then the only one that will say stop is the President himself.”

“It may get his tail feathers burned. Some of these guys have friends on the Hill.”

“He likes a little vinegar in his greens. I’d say put your people in the key places and assign the others where they can’t do any harm. If they complain, you can say it was the rotation that met the needs of the service.” Black got up out of his chair. It was late and he already knew Perry Johnson would kick ass and take names.

“By the way, I saw Jim Butler is the new Chief of Staff. I always liked that guy. Is he a player?”

Black’s face split into a wide grin. “Best thing to happen to the White House since Washington. He is one smart son of a bitch. Between him and Hammond, they are coming up with the ideas and getting things done. If you really want to know how the President thinks, talk to Butler. Don’t make the mistake of thinking you can bullshit him. Play with an open hand. They both like it that way.” Black took Johnson’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here, Perry. Let’s shake the tree a little.”

The CNO walked the Chairman to the door. It had been a short but productive meeting. Johnson had been given a green light and almost carte blanche to get things done. As Johnson closed the door, dismissed the mess specialist there to assist him, and made his way to his bedroom. On the way he looked at some of the paintings on the wall of the mansion. Almost all of the portraits were of naval heroes. He stopped at one of John Paul Jones. After gazing into the eyes of the figure in the portrait, he looked around at the others. “Gentlemen, I intend to go in harm’s way,” he said to the silent portraits. It was strange. Somehow, as he made his way up the stairs, he could almost sense them smiling at him.