"No, their advance was tactical. It was actually some sort of a reverse retreat."
"Reverse-"
"They cut and run," the secretary of defense said flatly. "Away from the gas. It was Sarin. Bad stuff. A nerve agent. Fatal in seconds."
"So what took out the Iraiti forces?" the President wanted to know.
"No one knows," the chairman admitted. "They just collapsed."
The President frowned. He was thinking about his one wild-card asset on the ground over there. The CURE card. He wondered if Smith's special person had had anything to do with this.
"Any further action?" he asked.
"No," the chairman said. "It's been four hours now. It appears they simply made a halfhearted probe of the Hamidi line and pulled back."
"I think they're cranking up the pressure over their damned ambassador," the secretary of defense offered.
The President shook his head. "And all we have to offer them is a corpse. It's as if they've guessed the truth and are retaliating."
"Maddas is just the type to react like that," the chairman said tightly. "I say we pound him flat."
The President frowned. "It makes no sense. He knew that this would be the start of war. Why did he make a half-assed move like this one? What could possibly be gained?"
"Maybe he had no choice," the secretary said.
"Say again?"
"Maddas knows he's outgunned. Maybe he was responding to pressure from his inner council. There have been some pretty strange reports coming out of Abominadad. Rumors of attacks on the Hinsein household. One has it that his entire family got it. They've always been conspiring against him. Maybe they made their move and he struck back. Maybe it was internal opposition. Whatever, he's a strongman. He's got to show his strength or he gets toppled. There's a lot of pressure on him."
"Possibly," the President thought. "What's CNN been saying?"
The secretary of defense went to a nearby TV and turned it on.
In sober silence they watched the procession of reports and rumors coming out of the Middle East, as presented by a sober anchorman whose jet hair resembled a licorice sculpture.
"In a statement issued by the newly renamed Iranian Foreign Ministry today-that's the Arab Iran, not the Persian one-the Iraitis have assured the relatives of Reverend Juniper Jackman that he is well and is enjoying his new status as a guest of the state. Abominadad promises this will continue, but hinted that the reverend's fate is linked to that of the still-missing Ambassador Turqi Abaatira."
"What are the media saying about the Jackman thing?" the President muttered.
"They're unanimous," the secretary of defense returned.
"They think you should nuke Abominadad for daring to kidnap a former presidential candidate."
"If I do that, Jackman buys the farm. So does Cooder."
"A lot of reporters are hot to move into Cooder's chair," the secretary said flatly.
The President grunted. The chairman started to speak, but a graphic came on the screen just to the left of the anchorman's coiffed head. It showed a dead-eyed man with high cheekbones.
"A new mystery tonight is the identity of the American defector Abominadad has claimed went over to their side today. Although his name has not been released, a statement from the Information Ministry claimed it was a major defection, with grave repercussions for the U.S. effort to isolate Iran."
"Which Iran do they mean?" the chairman demanded.
"The bad one," the secretary replied, thin-lipped.
"I thought they were both bad."
The President shushed them angrily. He was very pale as he watched the screen.
The image switched to the familiar Maddas Hinsein clone who read all his prepared statements and speeches over the air-because Maddas was too assassin-conscious to enter a TV studio, it was rumored.
The spokesman read his prepared text in droning Arabic. Crude English subtitles flicked on and off the screen under him.
"The defector," it read, "is known to be the premier assassin in the direct employ of the President of the United States himself. But no more. President Maddas Hinsein announced today that this assassin has now seen the criminality of the U.S. stance and has agreed to perform necessary services for Irait-I mean, Iran. From this day forward, our Precious Leader has proclaimed, no head of state who has aligned himself with the un-Arab forces arrayed against us can sleep safely in his bed. For the-"
The President shut off the TV with a savage stab of his finger. His face was sheet-white.
"Maddas must be really desperate," the chairman said. "Imagine trying to convince the world that we have hired assassins on the White House payroll."
No one spoke.
"We don't, do we?" the chairman said.
Behind the President's back the secretary shook his head no. But the President was unaware of this.
"We remain on stand-down," he said hoarsely.
"Until when?" the disappointed chairman demanded.
"Until I say otherwise," he was informed.
The President left the room.
The secretary and the chairman stared at each other.
"That last report really got to him, didn't it?" the chairman undertoned.
"You know how that crazy Arab gets his goat. The guy's a barbarian."
"Well, if I had a crack at him, he'd be like Attila the Hun."
The secretary of defense looked at the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff with a single eyebrow raised questioningly.
"History," the chairman said.
The President went to the Lincoln Bedroom and lifted the CURE line with trembling fingers.