The Big Blue Sky: Fifteen

The Iranians have already protested,” said Ambassador Spurlock. “They are calling this a blatant and illegal infringement upon their national sovereignty.”

“Not particularly strong,” observed the President, “given the gravity of the situation.”

“I think everyone is giving themselves ample maneuvering room. Just like we saw when Israel seized the Turkish ship attempting to run their blockade of Gaza. This one will be fought as hard in the World Press as on the ground.”

“This was a search and rescue mission,” said secretary Burger. “We were responding to a distress signal from a downed pilot.”

“So we thought,” said Keil.”

Burger nodded, “So we thought.”

Veil wasn’t satisfied. “Looks like our guys were ambushed.”

The President went around to the monitor. “Doesn’t sound like something the Iranians would pull. Maybe I’m wrong to give them the benefit of the doubt. If I am we will hit them just as hard.”

“Rogue elements?” Veil continued. Not that he was itching for a fight, necessarily, but he took the plight of those poor soldiers deeply personal.

“A coup?” offered the Air Force. Burger shook his head.

“Tehran is quiet.” He said. “Their military is on high alert nationwide and they’re mobilizing civil defense units, but so far this seems pretty localized."

“I think our number one concern right now is shoring up allies,” Osborne offered. “And being mindful of retaliation in the form of sleeper cells at home and around the world. I don’t think we can expect the Iranians to fight fair.”

“Would you?’ asked the President.

“Absolutely not.”

The president considered all of this. He rubbed at the tension building at his brow and wished for more time. He wished for facts and broader perspectives, knowing full well God and history would judge him completely for his decision. And the weight of that decision was beyond comprehension. Not the least of which was the drama and tragedy of the survivors fighting for their lives that very moment. Were they worth the cost of war, of tens or hundreds of thousands of lives? The battle was waning. They would be overrun and out of ammunition well before any rescue force could reach them.

“Give the order, sir,” Keil was almost pleading. The Air Force nodded in agreement, “and we’ll punch a hole to our boys and set fire to southern Iran.”

Despite their resolve to fight he knew these men well enough they carried the discipline and respect to carry whatever decision was made forward, and he and already decided.

“Worth a war to you, General Keil?” he asked.

“That’s for politicians to ponder, sir,” he replied. “I am a soldier.”

The President nodded, drawing in a breath. “Put our forces on alert, but with crystal clear rules of engagement. No one fires a shot unless attacked by a clear and verifiable target. I don’t want to incite the Iranians, but I don’t want to be their bitch either. Zero defects, ladies and gentlemen.”

“And the survivors?’ asked Burger.

“I’ll talk with the Canadian Prime minister. We’ll need his people in Tehran as intermediaries to negotiate a release.” He motioned to an aide. “Have the State department see what kind of backing we can expect from China. Let’s talk with SOCOM in one hour. We need to put Iran back on its heels a bit, and get us off the defensive before the Press gets hold of this story. Ladies and Gentlemen, let’s have us be the ones who write the narrative here.”