Read Online The Gulf by David Poyer - Free Book Online Page B

This wasn’t just any woman. She was the primary defense adviser to the Chairman of the Armed Services Committee, the legendary Bankey Talmadge, confidant and gadfly of five administrations. And through whose committee passed, not only all defense appropriations, but all promotions within the flag ranks of the services.
    â€œFair enough.” Hart smiled broadly, turning it into a joke. The other officers giggled.
    â€œBlair, my feeling for the situation is that their navy’s about shot its wad. Malekzadegan’s never been trusted by the Ayatollah’s people; there were too many Shah-era officers left. Since the war began, the army’s gotten the attention and funding. Their air and surface activity is at a low level. And my pilots report that when their air does come out, they’re docile, very docile. They catch our radar and they turn back into their own airspace.”
    â€œThat’s excellent,” she said. “What you’re saying, then, is that we can begin reducing the U.S. presence here.”
    Hart began a nod, then caught himself. “Well, now, not so fast. It’s more complicated than that. The other side of the coin is that the Pasdaran, that’s their revolutionary guard, has been stepping up their activity. They harass shipping, lay mines, and raid oil platforms. We’re developing countermeasures against this type of attack. What worries me is what they might do if they get some real resources to operate with.”
    Byrne, beside him, bent and whispered. Hart listened, then shook his head slightly, glancing at Blair. “Shall we continue the briefing?” he said.
    â€œBy all means.”
    The swarthy captain reviewed the Iranian order of battle, the rules of engagement, talked about weather, and discussed rotation of escort units in and out of the Gulf. Then he stopped. “I guess that’s about it. Admiral, Miss Titus, thank you. Are there any questions?”
    â€œYou’re finished?” she said. Byrne nodded. He collapsed the pointer down to a nub and clipped it to his shirt.
    â€œThanks, Jack,” said Hart. He lit his pipe, puffing out clouds of vanilla smell, and looked at her evaluatingly over it. “Well. In as few words as possible, I’d say we have the situation under control. Congress and the administration have given us the resources we need and we’re out here putting ’em to work. Our allies are with us, the Gulf states are happy we’re here, and the Iranians are blowing smoke as usual. Is that your understanding of it, Blair? Is that what you wanted to know?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œNo?”
    She found a tissue in her purse and blotted her forehead carefully with it. “No. It’s not my understanding of it, it’s not under control, and the brief was unsatisfactory.”
    â€œExcuse me?” said Byrne.
    â€œI said it was unsatisfactory! This is what you call high-level briefing? This is the sort of thing you put out to the press pool.”
    â€œI don’t understand,” said Hart, his forehead meshing into wrinkles. “Of course, we didn’t get down into beans and bullets and comm plans. Didn’t think you wanted that. I asked Jack to keep it light, give you an introduction to the situation—”
    She crossed her legs the other way, instantly annoyed at the way their eyes fastened to them. They were all staring at her now. Her voice went flat, the tone she’d learned in the Special Prosecutor’s office. “You don’t understand. In that case, let me bring up a few points for your consideration, gentlemen. Things you might think about now and then while you’re moving your little gray toys around.”
    She considered, organizing her thoughts the way she did before sitting down with Bankey.
    â€œThe first point is that this entire operation is too expensive. Our defense budget is now three hundred billion. That’s more than we spent