“Yes, the Ford, out of Everett, Washington. She was supporting a submarine exercise off Point Barrow at the time of the incident, but that was over three hundred miles away. Aside from that, the Ford is not ice-rated, so she would have had no business plowing through the thick sea ice that supported the camp.”

“Another case of mistaken identity?” the President asked.

“Nobody knows for sure. There’s just not much in the way of traffic in that area, and there was a heavy storm at the time that obscured things.”

“What about satellite imagery?” Sandecker asked.

Moss flipped through a folder, then pulled out a report.

“Satellite coverage in that region is pretty sporadic, for obvious reasons. Unfortunately, we don’t have any imagery available within twelve hours of the incident.”

“Do we know for sure it wasn’t the Ford? Could they have made a mistake?” the President probed.

“No, sir,” the Secretary of Defense replied. “I had Pacific Command review their navigation records. The Ford never traveled anywhere near the position of the ice camp.”

“And we’ve shared that information with the Canadians?”

“The Chief of the Defence Staff has seen the data and concurs off the record that the Ford was likely not responsible,” replied the Secretary of Defense. “But the politicians don’t trust what we are giving them, quite frankly. Given the mileage they have gotten out of the incident, they have no reason to backtrack now.”

“Find those ships and we find our way out of this mess,” the President stated.

His advisers fell silent, knowing that the window of opportunity had likely already passed. Without direct access to the Canadian Arctic, there was little they could even hope to do.

“We’ll do what we can,” the Secretary of Defense promised.

The chief of staff noted the time, then ushered everyone out of the Oval Office in preparation for the President’s next meeting. After the others had left the room, Ward stood at the window and gazed out at the Rose Garden.

“War with Canada,” he muttered to himself. “Now, there’s a real legacy.”

Chapter 32

32

MITCHELL GOYETTE PEERED OUT OF THE GLASS-walled offic e on the top deck of his yacht and idly watched a silver seaplane taxiing across the harbor. The small plane quickly hopped off the water and circled south, bypassing the tall buildings lining Vancouver Harbor. The magnate took a sip from a martini glass, then turned his gaze to a thick contract sitting on the desk.

“The terms and conditions are acceptable?” he asked.

A small man with black hair and thick glasses seated opposite Goyette nodded his head.

“The legal department has reviewed it and found no issues with the changes. The Chinese were quite pleased with the initial test shipment and are anxious to receive an ongoing supply stream.”

“With no change in price or limits on quantity?”