"Bronzini escaped in a tank during action at Luke Air Force Range. He disappeared into a sandstorm. Our captured F-16's have been unable to spot him."
Nemuro Nishitsu's wizened visage darkened. "We need Bronzini," he said firmly.
"But he has served his purpose."
"We need him. Find him. Find Bronzini." Nishitsu pounded the floor with his cane. His eyes squeezed into black slits of venom. His voice was cold as the desert night.
Isuzu swallowed uncomfortably. "At once, sir," said Jiro Isuzu as he picked up the cellular phone, saying, "Moshi moshi." He wondered why his superior wanted the American actor, who was no longer necessary now that Yuma had been conquered. But he dared not question him. For Jiro Isuzu was only midoru-middle management.
When the mobile operator answered in Japanese, Jiro Isuzu asked to be put through to Imperial Command Headquarters at the Shilo Inn.
Admiral William Blackbird, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, leapt to his feet as the President of the United States entered the Situation Room in the White House basement.
"Mr. President, sir," he said, executing a snappy salute.
The President did not return it. The remaining members of the joint Chiefs pointedly stood with their hands dangling at their sides. And Admiral Blackbird knew he had stepped in it, tactical-wise.
"How was your game, sir?" he asked brightly.
"I lost," the President said sourly in his homogenized Connecticut-Texas-Maine accent. "Let's have the straight skinny on this emergency thing." He wore a white Wndbreaker over a red sweater vest.
"Yes, sir. In a phrase: We've lost Yuma, Arizona. These satellite photographs have just been received from NORAD."
The President leaned over the stack of photographs. They were still wet from their chemical bath.
One particularly grisly set of photos showed scores of bodies lying in sand.
"You're looking at the bodies of airmen from Luke Air Force Range," the admiral said. "We believe they were pushed from aircraft. They're all dead."
"This one looks like he's walking away," the President said, tapping a photo showing an apparently upright man.
"Probably an optical illusion. Nobody walks away from a fall like that. Maybe he struck feetfirst and rigor mortis did the rest."
Other photos showed ordinary city streets, deserted of people and moving traffic. Except for the tanks and armored personnel carriers.
"Whose tanks are these?" the President demanded. The Secretary of Defense, who had entered with the President, spoke up a beat before the chairman could frame his answer.
"They're Soviet," he said confidently.
Because that was the answer he was going to give, Admiral Blackbird contradicted the Secretary of Defense. "Not necessarily," he said. "They could easily be Chinese. The main Chinese battle tank is a knockoff of the Soviet T-62. These are T-62's."
"Yes, they are T-62's," the Secretary of Defense insisted just as firmly. "Soviet T-62's."
"None of these photos show markings," Admiral Blackbird countered. "Without markings, we can only make an educated guess."
"And mine," the secretary said pointedly, "is that they are Soviet machines."
"In other words," the President interrupted, "neither of you can give me a straight answer."
"It's not that simple," the Secretary of Defense said. Deciding that he was about to be outflanked, Admiral Blackbird quickly added, "I concur with the secretary." The sour expression that crossed the President's face told the admiral that he had made another tactical mistake. It also told him that the secretary had taken the President in horseshoes. No wonder the old man was ticked off.
The President sighed. "Is there any indication of this thing spreading?"
"No, sir. They-whoever they are-have Yuma. They appear to be consolidating their position. But we can't be sure that the city isn't merely a staging area."
"By gosh, how many soldiers can there be?"
"We estimate no more than a brigade."
"Is that as big as it sounds?"
"Normally a brigade could be isolated and easily neutralized, Mr. President. Not in this case. If you'll take a look at this map, you'll understand."
The President followed the others to a wall map of Arizona. The admiral poked Yuma with a fat finger. "As you can see," he rumbled, "Yuma is completely isolated. It's entirely surrounded by desert and mountains. The Mexican border is only twenty-five miles south, and the border with California a mere stone's throw west. It's entirely self-sufficient for its electric and water needs. It's surrounded by three military installations, MCAS Yuma, the Yuma Proving Grounds, and Luke Air Force Range. The invader apparently overran Luke and the Marine Air Station by force. Using aircraft captured during those operations, they bombed the Army proving grounds here to the north. It was a brilliant tactical and strategic move. In one stroke, they acquired a staggering air defense capability they could never have hoped to bring into our borders. F/A-18 Hornets, AV-8B Harriers, and Cobra attack helicopters. As we've already discovered, when we send our planes in, they shoot them down. At the moment, we're stalemated."
"Are you telling me that we can't retake our own city?" the President demanded.
"It's not that we can't, it's that we don't yet know who our enemy is. The dogfight suggests highly trained Russian pilots, but the Chinese can't be ruled out."
"Why don't we put feelers out to both governments. You know, kinda take their temperature?"
"We can't do that, Mr. President. It would show weakness and indecision."
"And what are we showing here? So far, I haven't heard a concrete suggestion out of anyone in this room."
"There's a reason for that, Mr. President. They have two of our air bases, and all the communications equipment that goes with them."
"My God," said the Secretary of Defense as he realized the importance of the admiral's words.
"Don't tell me they've captured nuclear weapons," the President demanded.
"Worse than that," the admiral replied. "We have to assume they're listening in on our message traffic. If we go to Defcon One-which I do recommend-they'll know it. Normal contingency for a situation such as this would be to mobilize the Eighty-second Airborne out of Fort Bragg, but we'd have no element of surprise. We can't make a move without their seeing it coming. Whoever these people are, they are tactically brilliant. They pinpointed the most isolated, vulnerable, yet defendable city in the nation. In one bold stroke they have coopted our entire military communications network and all our ground assets in the war zone."
"War zone . . . the President muttered. "How?"
"This is where it gets sticky, Mr. President. We've had no inkling of any military activity that could be read as a precusor to a strike of this brilliance. We are assuming that the tanks came across the Mexican border."
"Wouldn't we have detected them?"
"Er, it may be that we let them in."
"Explain," the President said tightly.
"Customs allowed a tank column to legally enter this country only two days ago. They were to be used in the making of a film. Simultaneously, permission was given to film scenes at MCAS Yuma and Luke. We believe that's how the bases were penetrated."
"The Pentagon allowed this?"