“A guess isn’t knowing, Elliot. Besides, when we’re done with him, we have the sanction to kill him if needs be.” The stark practicality of her words stalled MacIntyre, as did the level
frankness of her gaze. A quote bubbled unbidden to the surface of his mind: the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
“Until we have to make that call, we can use him,” Amanda continued. “And I intend to just use the hell out of him.”
MacIntyre couldn’t help but note a certain undertone of satisfaction creeping into her voice. She reached up and unbanded her hair, shaking the amber strands down around her shoulders. “Would you mind if I changed while we talk?” she continued, indicating her sand dusted utilities.
“Uh no, go ahead,” MacIntyre replied, nonplussed. “And just how do you intend to use him?”
“Here’s the situation as he presented it to me,” Amanda said over her shoulder as she unlocked the connecting door to her cabin.
“As we know, the man behind both the Bali jihad and the attempted coup against
President Kediri is Admiral Merpati Ketalaman, the Western Forces Fleet
commander of the Indonesian navy.” Amanda disappeared through the door, leaving it ajar. “According to Harconan, Ketalaman was also one of his bought men inside of the
Indonesian military, back when he was running his piracy operations within the
archipelago. Apparently, through this connection, Ketalaman picked up on
Harconan’s plans to disrupt the Indonesian Government and elected to piggyback his own
coup on top, with the intention of assuming power on the core islands of Java
and Sumatra.”
MacIntyre leaned back his desk. “And why should Harconan object? Wasn’t the breakup of the archipelago into separate independent states his goal from
the beginning?”
Discarded boots thumped onto the deck in the next cabin. “Not exactly. Having an aggressive military dictatorship as a major player in his revived Bone Empire wasn’t quite what Harconan had in mind. Beyond that, Ketalaman is not merely attempting to co-opt Harconan’s revolution but his organization as well. Ketalaman wants Harconan’s sea lift and his arms distribution network. If Harconan and the Bugi refuse to assist him, Ketalaman is threatening massive retribution against the sea clans. That mysterious bombardment at Port Paotere was a demonstration by Ketalaman of what might happen if Harconan refuses to play along.
“Ketalaman is also responsible for killing some of Harconan’s personal staff, including one individual who was very close to Harconan. That’s what pushed Harconan into coming to us. Well, ‘my enemy’s enemy is my friend’ after all. He wants friends to use against Ketalaman and in the worst way.” Amanda paused. “Excuse me a second.”
MacIntyre heard a faint intercom filtered voice from the far room and Amanda’s replies to it. “This is the captain … Have we seen any major situational changes on the threat boards or in the
theater sitreps over the past couple of hours? Very good, Dix. I want to call
an O Group for the primary planning staff in two hours and I want our guest,
Mr. Harconan, to be on call should his presence be needed. Understood? Carry
on.”
“Apparently you think Harconan is giving you the straight dope?” MacIntyre said as she hung up the phone.
“It fits with everything we’re seeing on the boards and it fits what I know about the man.”
MacIntyre scowled. Damn, she would have to bring that up.
“Makara Harconan can be a focused planner, but he’s also mercurial and essentially egocentric. He has no government or set
national policy to answer to, no bureaucracy to turn around. He is a king with
a king’s prerogative to change his mind in a heartbeat. Now he’s been attacked, he’s angered – and he’s turning on his attacker. That opens a window of opportunity for us.”
Harconan was not the only mercurial figure in the equation. MacIntyre had to
struggle to keep pace with this drastically altering scenario. There were also
the diverting sounds of zippers opening and clothes slithering from the other
room. “To do what?”
“To turn the entire Indonesian situation around,” she replied. “To regain control on our terms.”
MacIntyre glanced up toward the gap in the door, just in time to catch a
momentary flash of golden tanned skin. God damn it to hell, MacIntyre, not now!
“That would be quite a trick,” he fired back. “The entire archipelago is in chaos.”
“Exactly, Elliot.” Her purring alto grew more distant, lifting over the sound of water hissing
from the shower. “For the first time, we know who we’re fighting and, for the first time, we have a level playing field. Ketalaman’s intervention has thrown Harconan’s plan into chaos. But our successful evacuation of the Kediri government from
Jakarta has also thrown Ketalaman’s plan into chaos. Nobody has a viable plan in play and the first people to
develop one wins.”
“You’re sounding like you have one.”
“I think I do. But it all depends on two factors. One, we have to keep our alliance with Harconan a secret. Nobody – and I mean nobody – can know he’s actively working with us. That’s why I brought him out to the Shenandoah. Here, we have full control of him and of the situation.
“Next, the trick will be to bring together a widely diverse group of factions.
You’re still a fishing buddy with the Secretary of State, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Great. You can deliver him, and through him, the State Department.” The water shut off. “Beyond State, we’ll need to bring on board the Kediri government, the Australians, the Bugi
Pirate clans, the Morning Star revolutionaries in New Guinea and the Balinese
religious leadership.”
MacIntyre turned to fully face the door. “Damn it, Amanda, that wouldn’t be a trick, that would be a canonizable miracle!”
Amanda appeared in the doorway, wrapped in a thigh length beach jacket and
vigorously toweling her hair dry. “Don’t I know it,” she said, smiling wryly. “What’s more, we only have a matter of days, if not hours, to make it happen.”
Command-and-Control Block, USS Shenandoah
0024 Hours; Zone Time, December 3, 2008
Harconan found himself amused. The situation was strikingly novel, the shark surrounded by the pod of killer whales. The group of uniformed men and women gathered around the big briefing table were all eyeing him with the same baleful wariness as the two side-armed Marines at the compartment door.
It was something of a compliment to be considered so formidable, but it was also going to make his eventual disengagement from this situation something of a challenge.
But that was a matter to be dealt with later. For now, he was where he wished to be.
“Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to show you what I can bring to the table.” From his position at the head of the briefing table, Harconan gestured at the
large screen display. It glowed with a map of western Indonesia, the islands
dotted with several score position hacks paired with geographical co-ordinate
sets. “With certain previously mentioned exceptions, these are my untapped weapons
caches in the archipelago. The Indonesian government forces should find them
useful. I trust that, by now, you have proven their veracity?”
“We’ve been in communication with the Indonesian Army command on Java,” Admiral MacIntyre replied. “They’ve already investigated a couple of your cache sites. The arms were there and
the inventories match. We’re willing to concede you’re delivering the goods in this instance.”
“As I can in a number of other areas, my good admiral,” Harconan replied. “I can give you Intelligence contacts in every major and the majority of the minor ports in the archipelago, as well as a major coast watcher network. For example …” Harconan stood and turned to the screen, then tapped a port symbol at the Northwestern tip of Sumatra. “Here at Banda Aceh, you have the primary concentration of rebel naval forces. Currently in port and ready for sea you’ve got the frigates Slamet Riyadi and the Silas Papare, a Van Speijik and a Parchim conversion. You’ve also got two major amphibious warfare vessels, the LSM Teluk Hading and the Indonesian Fleet flagship, the Teluk Surabaya.
“You also have a light forces group: a dagger missile boat, two Lurssen FPB 57
gunboats and two Kondor class minesweepers.” Harconan swept his hand to the eastern entrance of the Malacca Strait. “Here you have – or at least you had – their first-string force: three Fatahillah class frigates and another dagger
boat inbound to Banda Aceh from their patrol stations. The port facilities at
Banda were making preparations to refuel and restore them upon their arrival.”
At the other end of the table, Amanda glanced at her little golden-haired shadow, Christine Rendino. The younger woman nodded.
“We’ve known you’ve always had a handle on anything moving by sea in these waters, Makara,” Amanda replied. “Point taken. Continue.”
“All right, I can also provide you with armed commando and Intelligence gathering teams on a number of the islands, including Java and Sumatra. I can provide you with names and targeting data on a number of the Islamic radicalist cells that are likely supporting the Ketalaman coup, and I have contacts with a number of the prominent Hindu religious and community leaders on Bali. I’ve already urged them in the strongest possible terms to reign in the anti-Muslim violence there.
“Most importantly, I can give you littoral sea control and shallow draft sea
transport. I can mass dozens of armed pinisi wherever you want them, and I can give you a couple of hundred inter-island
coasters and schooners ready to sail and deliver troops, passengers or cargo
wherever needed.” He stopped and quietly considered them all. “But I will require a few things in return.”
“Such as?” MacIntyre replied.
Harconan noted that the Admiral’s stare had the truculence of a displeased bull water buffalo.
