Piranha by Jim DeFelice, Dale Brown

said his wife, laughing and shaking her head.
                 Dreamland

        2000
                 “The
political situation in both India and China is complicated, as you’d imagine,”
continued Jed Barclay.
                 “Just
a summary, Jed,” said Dog, trying to keep the NSC deputy on line. Barclay was a
genius and a strong advocate for Whiplash and Dreamland, but his dissertations
on international politics tended to sprawl.
                 “Yes,
sir. Basically, the extremists in India are trying to improve their position in
the upcoming elections. They calculate that China is a weak and easy mark due
to the conflict with us and Taiwan—well, you’re all familiar with the so-called
Fatal Terrain event.”
                 The
dozen top officers gathered in the secure briefing room nodded. Though the
details were still highly classified, most knew how Brad Elliott had chosen to
give his life to help prevent an apocalyptic war—their interpretation, not the
media’s.
                 “Of
course, the Islamic Alliance and the connection with China plays right into
this, yada , yada , yada , because now hitting the Chinese is the same as
hitting Muslims as far as most Hindus are concerned. Those who care anyway,”
continued Barclay. “And we’ve—uh, I better skip some of the political
wrangling.”
                 He
glanced at Dog, who nodded.
                 “On
the other side of the equation, the Chinese, domestically, needed something to
show they’re in power, that they’re not slipping. Because now, right, they look
weak. As we saw with the incident in Tibet …”
                 “Which
incident was that?” asked Rubeo.
                 From
anyone else, it would have been an innocent question—in fact, Dog himself
wasn’t sure what Barclay was referring to, but Rubeo took a perverse pleasure
in watching other squirm. An ever-so-subtle look of satisfaction flickered
across the scientist’s face as Jed stuttered, the train of his thoughts
bunching and crashing down a siding he hadn’t seen coming.
                 “Don’t
worry about Tibet, Pakistan, Taiwan, or any of that bullshit,” said Stoner. It
was the first time the CIA official had spoken since he arrived. “The action’s
out in the South China Sea. India and China are fighting a war out there,
sinking each other’s merchant ships. They’ve been rattling sabers and now
they’re using them. everything else is just bullshit.”
                 “Please,”
said Rubeo, in a way that implied many things other than courtesy or respect.
                 “I
think we can get a full rundown on Tibet later, along with any other geopolitical
matters anyone has an interest in,” said Dog. “Let’s move to our assignment.”
                 Anyone
else would have interpreted this as a mild reprimand. Rubeo, however, saw it
somehow as a vindication, and slipped back into his seat with a barely
concealed gloat. Before Jed could continue, the door alarm buzzed; the doors
slid back and Danny Freah appeared.
                 “Sorry
I’m late,” said Freah.
                 “We’re
just getting to the good part, Danny,” said Dog. “We’re being asked to mount a
surveillance mission in the South China Sea, observing a new weapon the Indians
have.”
                 “It’s
not limited just to that,” said Jed. “Information on everything going in—that’s
what Whiplash covers.”
                 “The
new technology is a prime concern,” said Stoner.
                 “Um,
everything’s of interest,” said Jed. “The order covers the entire situation;
the Chinese as well as the Indians. This is a twenty-four/seven operation,
completely covert and not coordinated with Pacific Command or any other
command.”