Read Online The Trojan Sea by Richard Herman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Richard Herman
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his best grin. “Thanks. I owe you.”
Peggy made a note and watched him go. She picked up the phone and dialed a friend in the NSC. “Gloria, it’s Peggy. Lieutenant Colonel Mike Stuart will be at the meeting. Put in a good word for him, okay?” She listened for a moment. “You’ll like him. He’s one of the good guys.”
Stuart was the only uniform on the third floor of the Old Executive Office Building, and he felt like a fish out of water. But that was typical of the Turner administration with its deliberate muting of the armed services’ presence in the nation’s capital. Although the president, Madeline O’Keith Turner, preferred to keep the military in the background, she was not hostile to the Department of Defense and trusted her military advisers. It had been that way since the Okinawa crisis, when her own party had turned against her and only the generals had stood firmly behind their commander in chief. *
Stuart found the conference room and walked in. The table was arranged with name cards and handouts at each seat, and flowers, the trademark of the Turner administration, were in the center. It all made him think of a formal banquet. Stuart glanced at the civilian sitting next to him and then his name card. General something, he couldn’t quite read the last name. He was gray-headed, hunch-shouldered, and totally nondescript. “Colonel Stuart,” the general said, “we’re supposed to wear civvies on this side of the river.”
“Sorry, sir. I didn’t know. It won’t happen again.”
“Who do you work for?”
“Colonel Roger Priestly, the chief of ILSX.”
“I’ll speak to him.”
Stuart suppressed a groan. That was all he needed. He automatically stood with everyone else and at first couldn’t see who entered the room. He caught his breath when he saw Mazana Kamigami Hazelton, the national security adviser.
“Please be seated,” the national security adviser said. She remained standing while the committee shuffled into their seats. It was the first time Stuart had seen her in person. She was petite, very short—less than five feet—and beautiful. Her delicate features reflected the best of her Hawaiian and Japanese heritages. Her exquisitely tailored business suit and diamond engagement ring with its matching wedding band shouted wealth, while her last name, Hazelton, signaled power and influence. Mazie, as she liked to be called by her friends, carefully cultivated her image as the administration’s Dragon Lady to tame Washington’s willful, and often obstinate, power brokers. In the rarefied air of the nation’s capital, she was recognized as Madeline Turner’s staunchest advocate and a force to be reckoned with. She could also be a very kind and supporting friend.
“Thank you for coming,” Mazie began. “Before we start, why don’t we go around the room and everyone introduce themselves?” It was quickly done, and Stuart was shaken. Some of the most influential names in the capital were seated at the table, and he was a tadpole, a small fry, or something equally insignificant. He tried not to look uncomfortable.
“President Turner,” Mazie said, “has asked for a complete review of the Strategic Petroleum Reserve and is very concerned about how it impacts on our war-fighting capability. I think you all know how the president works.” She stopped to let her words sink in, a little smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
Stuart panicked. He didn’t have the slightest idea how Madeline Turner worked. He was way in over his head. Time to bail out, he thought. Cautiously, he raised his hand, half hoping the national security adviser wouldn’t see it. She did and gave him a little nod. The butterflies in his stomach turned into a swarm of bats in full flight. Very big bats. “Madam…” What was the proper form of address? “Ah…”
For a moment Mazie was back in time and sitting in the same spot. A warm smile spread over her face. “In a meeting
Peggy made a note and watched him go. She picked up the phone and dialed a friend in the NSC. “Gloria, it’s Peggy. Lieutenant Colonel Mike Stuart will be at the meeting. Put in a good word for him, okay?” She listened for a moment. “You’ll like him. He’s one of the good guys.”
Stuart was the only uniform on the third floor of the Old Executive Office Building, and he felt like a fish out of water. But that was typical of the Turner administration with its deliberate muting of the armed services’ presence in the nation’s capital. Although the president, Madeline O’Keith Turner, preferred to keep the military in the background, she was not hostile to the Department of Defense and trusted her military advisers. It had been that way since the Okinawa crisis, when her own party had turned against her and only the generals had stood firmly behind their commander in chief. *
Stuart found the conference room and walked in. The table was arranged with name cards and handouts at each seat, and flowers, the trademark of the Turner administration, were in the center. It all made him think of a formal banquet. Stuart glanced at the civilian sitting next to him and then his name card. General something, he couldn’t quite read the last name. He was gray-headed, hunch-shouldered, and totally nondescript. “Colonel Stuart,” the general said, “we’re supposed to wear civvies on this side of the river.”
“Sorry, sir. I didn’t know. It won’t happen again.”
“Who do you work for?”
“Colonel Roger Priestly, the chief of ILSX.”
“I’ll speak to him.”
Stuart suppressed a groan. That was all he needed. He automatically stood with everyone else and at first couldn’t see who entered the room. He caught his breath when he saw Mazana Kamigami Hazelton, the national security adviser.
“Please be seated,” the national security adviser said. She remained standing while the committee shuffled into their seats. It was the first time Stuart had seen her in person. She was petite, very short—less than five feet—and beautiful. Her delicate features reflected the best of her Hawaiian and Japanese heritages. Her exquisitely tailored business suit and diamond engagement ring with its matching wedding band shouted wealth, while her last name, Hazelton, signaled power and influence. Mazie, as she liked to be called by her friends, carefully cultivated her image as the administration’s Dragon Lady to tame Washington’s willful, and often obstinate, power brokers. In the rarefied air of the nation’s capital, she was recognized as Madeline Turner’s staunchest advocate and a force to be reckoned with. She could also be a very kind and supporting friend.
“Thank you for coming,” Mazie began. “Before we start, why don’t we go around the room and everyone introduce themselves?” It was quickly done, and Stuart was shaken. Some of the most influential names in the capital were seated at the table, and he was a tadpole, a small fry, or something equally insignificant. He tried not to look uncomfortable.
“President Turner,” Mazie said, “has asked for a complete review of the Strategic Petroleum Reserve and is very concerned about how it impacts on our war-fighting capability. I think you all know how the president works.” She stopped to let her words sink in, a little smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
Stuart panicked. He didn’t have the slightest idea how Madeline Turner worked. He was way in over his head. Time to bail out, he thought. Cautiously, he raised his hand, half hoping the national security adviser wouldn’t see it. She did and gave him a little nod. The butterflies in his stomach turned into a swarm of bats in full flight. Very big bats. “Madam…” What was the proper form of address? “Ah…”
For a moment Mazie was back in time and sitting in the same spot. A warm smile spread over her face. “In a meeting
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