by Alex Lukeman
Vysotsky managed to look uncomfortable.
"It seemed best," he said.
"She knows who I am. Because of her I was able to get this recording. They may be Americans but in this we are all wanting the same thing."
Vysotsky's phone rang.
"Da." Valentina saw his face change. "Da. Da. Spasibo."
He put the phone down. He seemed shaken.
"There has been a nuclear explosion in Latvia," he said.
"NATO? The Americans?"
"No. One of our tanks fired a tactical missile. Part of Riga has been destroyed."
"Who gave the order to fire?"
"No one knows."
Vysotsky picked up the recorder with Gutenberg's statement on it and put it in his pocket. He stood. Valentina rose with him.
"Orlov has to hear this. This war must be stopped before the Americans retaliate." He paused. "For what it's worth, I admired your mother."
He walked out of the room, leaving Valentina standing there.
What the hell has that got to do with anything? she thought.
Alexei knew Orlov was meeting with his military commanders. Golovkin was sure to be there. As his limousine sped toward the Kremlin, Vysotsky thought about how to confront Golovkin and try to persuade Orlov to pull back. When American troops began to die, war with the United States was inevitable. Russia would not survive a nuclear war. It would not be a popular position to point out that Russia would be defeated. Before this day was over he would be praised as a hero or shot as a traitor.
He thought back to his days in the field in Afghanistan. He'd been young then, naïve. There were times when he'd wished his commanders would use tactical nuclear weapons against a particularly stubborn enemy. Now he knew better. The world was too dangerous for anyone, Russia included, to use the power of the atom as a hard vehicle of policy.
The car entered the Kremlin grounds through the private entrance reserved for Russia's leaders. The driver parked in the underground garage. Two guards armed with AK 94s stood by the elevator that would take him to the sub level where the Operations Center was located. They came to attention when they saw Alexei's uniform.
"One of you, come with me," Vysotsky said.
"Sir, my orders are to stay here."
"Unless you want to find yourself posting guard in Novosibirsk you will come with me now. Understand?"
"Sir."
"Summon the elevator."
The guard pushed the button to bring the elevator down. They waited in silence until the doors opened. Inside, Alexei pressed the button that would take them up to the next level.
The doors opened onto the Kremlin Operations Center.
The room was large and brightly lit with overhead fluorescent lighting. The air was heavy with the acrid smell of unwashed bodies and stress. To Alexei's right and left the walls were covered with large monitors displaying a pictures sent by satellites, ground cameras and drones. Most of the aerial shots were useless, gray masses of cloud blocking everything on the ground from sight. Raised rose of desks with monitors lined both sides of the room, manned by uniformed men and women from the Federation ground forces. At the far end was a command room separated from the rest by a wall of glass. Over the glass was a huge map of the world covered with glowing symbols illuminated in bright yellow against a black background.
The men in that room controlled Russia's massive military might. Alexei saw President Orlov, Golovkin, Colonel General Kuznetsov, General Krupin, and Admiral Akulin sitting at a large table on the other side of the glass. Also at the table was Colonel-General Anton Brezhnev, Commander of the Russian Aerospace Forces and the Federation Air Force. Sitting next to him was Lieutenant General Victor Aronov, commander of the Strategic Rocket Forces. Aronov was in charge of the Federation's considerable ballistic missile inventory.
People began to look up from their monitors as Alexei and his armed escort strode toward the conference room. Orlov sensed something out of the ordinary and turned toward the glass. He watched Vysotsky approaching.
Two guards stepped forward and blocked the way into the room.
"I must speak with the president," Alexei said.
"Entrance is forbidden."
Orlov's voice came through a speaker over the door. "Let him in."
The guard stepped aside and the door slid open with a quiet hiss of air.
"Mister President," Alexei said.
He took the recorder out of his pocket and held it up where everyone in the room could see. On the ride over he had decided that if Golovkin was present when he reached Orlov the only strategy was to attack without hesitation. Orlov was a forceful man. He appreciated forcefulness in others if it supported him. Just the same, Alexei knew he was playing a dangerous game.
"I have proof that we have been manipulated into this war. Mister President, we have been tricked into a confrontation with the Americans by this man."
He pointed at Golovkin in a theatrical gesture. Russians loved theater. Alexei now had gained their attention. He'd been careful not to single Orlov out as the target of Golovkin's manipulation. By using the collective 'we', he hoped to avoid triggering Orlov's massive ego. Any insinuation that Orlov alone was responsible for being duped by Golovkin would not go over well.
"Mister President, NATO will absolutely respond to our incursion into Latvia. Now that there has been a nuclear incident we are at risk of all out war with the West."
Orlov studied Vysotsky, the way a collector might look at a board pinned with butterflies.
"We have classified documents proving that NATO will not get involved," Orlov said. "The nuclear event, as you call it, can be written off as an unfortunate accident."
"The documents are false," Alexei said. "I can prove it. We must pull back before everything escalates. We cannot win against the Americans. We are not yet strong enough."
Golovkin spoke for the first time since Alexei had come into the room. "Mister President, he wishes to stop us from reclaiming what is ours. His fantastic accusations are the product of a treasonous mind."
"Is that right, General?" Alexei said. "Then perhaps you would kindly explain this recording of Johannes Gutenberg on his deathbed. He clearly states that with your help he has been funding our war efforts to provoke a confrontation between us and the West. He made sure that you received false documents showing that the NATO high command would not respond if we liberated the Baltics."
"That is a lie," Golovkin said. "Gutenberg died in Switzerland."
"Mister President, judge for yourself."
Vysotsky set the recording device on the table and pressed play. Gutenberg's words sounded tinny on the small speaker but clear. Golovkin rose as if to grab the recorder.
Orlov said, "Sit down. We will hear this."
Vysotsky relaxed just a bit. The first hurdle had been overcome. The men in the room listened to Gutenberg laughing as he described how he'd manufactured the NATO documents and convinced Golovkin that there would be no intervention if the Federation decided to expand its territory. They heard him gleefully explain how Russia and America would destroy each other in a nuclear war, giving him the revenge he sought. The last thing they heard on the speaker was the sounds of Gutenberg's death and Valentina's voice demanding the recording.
The room was silent. Everyone looked at Golovkin.
"Lies," he said. "This recording is false, made up by this traitor. These are lies. Arrest him."
"If they are lies," Orlov said, "how did he know about the secret notes supposedly from NATO's high command?"
"A lucky guess. Or he used his resources at SVR to discover them. Those documents are genuine."
"You never did explain where the money came from," Orlov said. "You said you had recruited a foreign source which supported our aims. I was unwilling to pursue it further. I see now that I made a mistake, one I will not make again."
Vysotsky risked an interruption. "General Golovkin, tell the president about your personal account."
The
temperature in the room was ice cold from air conditioning to keep the computers happy. Even so, droplets of sweat appeared on Golovkin's forehead.
"I don't know what you mean."
"Of course you do," Alexei said. "The private account in Switzerland with thirty-five million euros in it. You do recall it?"
"You are lying again. Where would I get that kind of money? Mister President, please, arrest this man. We are wasting time listening to this babble."
"This is true?" Orlov asked Alexei. "Thirty-five million euros?"
"It's true, Mister President. You can easily verify it. I can give you the account numbers. He siphoned off the money from what Gutenberg gave him to fund our military."
Orlov didn't like that. "Play the recording again," he said.
Alexei played it again.
"I know about Gutenberg." Orlov drummed his fingers on the table. "His organization was one of our greatest enemies. He would have destroyed us if he had not been stopped. I thought him dead."
"He is dead, now," Alexei said. "No thanks to Golovkin."
"You knew Gutenberg was our enemy," Orlov said to Golovkin. His voice was quiet, controlled. "You let yourself be persuaded because of money and now we face a crisis."
"One of our nukes has destroyed part of Riga," Alexei said. "How do you think the Americans and NATO will respond? How would we respond if our positions were reversed?"
Golovkin stood and pulled his pistol and pointed it at Vysotsky. "These are all lies. NATO will not respond. Even if they did we would destroy them. You are a traitor."
Alexei sneered at him. "You are a fool. You have put us on the path to nuclear war with America. You sold us out because you wanted the money and because you thought you knew better than the rest of us. The only traitor here is you."
Golovkin's face was white with rage. His finger tightened on the trigger.
A shot boomed harsh and loud in the enclosed room. Golovkin looked surprised, then down at a hole in his uniform jacket. Blood spread in a widening stain. He collapsed, knocking over his chair.
Orlov held a pistol in his hand. The room smelled of spent powder. All of the men in the room had seen violent death many times over. None of them had expected to see it here in the secret heart of the Kremlin.
Outside the glass enclosure, the ops center was at a standstill, everyone looking at what was happening inside the room. The guards outside rushed in, uncertain. Orlov still held his pistol.
"Get that piece of shit out of here." He waved the pistol at Golovkin's body and put the gun back in his pocket.
"General Vysotsky, sit down."
Vysotsky sat.
"Gentlemen," Orlov said. "I am convinced that General Vysotsky has uncovered the truth. We must decide how to proceed."
The first to speak was Admiral Akulin. He was a small man, dwarfed by the broad shoulder boards of his rank and his tailored uniform jacket.
"We have gone too far to retreat now. The fleet is at Riga as we speak. We can crush the city if we wish. The government will capitulate. Why give up our gains? I am not convinced that the West will risk war with us over Latvia. We could give assurances that we will pursue no territory in the other Baltic states."
"No one will believe us if we say that." The speaker was General Krupin.
"Our word should be good enough," the admiral said.
Krupin snorted.
"Our troops are in position to consolidate Latvia and turn to Estonia and Lithuania," General Kuznetsov said. He was about to continue when an officer entered the room and came over to him. He whispered in Kuznetsov's ear.
"Very well," Kuznetsov said. "Return to your post."
The man saluted and left the room. Kuznetsov turned to Orlov.
"NATO is sending advance elements to Estonia and Lithuania. My assessment is that they have given up on Latvia for now and are positioning themselves to attack from the north and the south."
"I agree," Vysotsky said. "This is only the beginning. There is an American carrier within striking range, with her escort screen. Once the weather clears they will launch air strikes and cruise missiles. We will take casualties and the commanders on the ground are certain to respond. American planes will be shot down. American soldiers will die. We will sink their carrier. Once that happens it will be impossible to stop this from going nuclear. They are at their Defense Condition 2. Some of the American bombers are holding at failsafe points near our coast. They can launch missiles and have the rest of their bombers in the air within minutes of going to Condition 1."
"If they go to Condition 1 we must attack them immediately," said Colonel-General Brezhnev. "If their bombers reach our soil some will get through."
"My missiles will make sure that they don't," said Lieutenant General Aronov.
"It would be better to halt this before we get to that point," Vysotsky said. "Everyone in this room believes in our destiny, our right to control Eastern Europe. But we are not yet ready to take it by force and hold it. The main enemy is weakening but there are forces within their government that will not hesitate to use nuclear weapons against us. Do any of you seriously believe that we would survive such an attack?"
Everyone knew that the main enemy was America.
"That is the talk of a defeatist," Krupin said.
"It is not defeatist to recognize when it is impossible to win. Remember the wisdom of Sun-Tzu. Retreat used strategically can be as effective as attack to win a war. Better to retreat now and wait until we are stronger."
"We can destroy them," Aronov said.
"Yes, we can," Alexei said. "And they will destroy us, as Gutenberg wanted. No one will win. The Rodina will become a radioactive wasteland. Think of Chernobyl."
Orlov held up his hand. Everyone in the room stopped talking.
"Enough. General Kuznetsov. You are certain that the intelligence you received regarding NATO is accurate?"
"Yes, Mister President."
"Very well. We have been deceived by the false documents Golovkin presented. Our time will come but it is not now. I will call the American president."
Alexei had been holding his breath, waiting to hear what Orlov would say. He let it go.
He hoped it wasn't too late.
CHAPTER 50
Nick hadn't slept for a day and a half. The last time he'd shaved had been the morning of the day they'd gone to see Gutenberg. He wore the same clothes. A wrinkled tan jacket, dark green Dockers and a white shirt open at the collar. The outfit looked long overdue for the laundry.
Selena was just as tired and looked it. Her face was pale, her violet eyes bloodshot from sleeplessness and stress. Even so, she managed to look almost elegant in a black pantsuit and a lavender blouse.
Their plane landed in Washington at six in the morning. Stephanie met them at the airport.
"Welcome home, guys. Thank God you're okay."
"Hi, Steph," Selena said. "Thanks for meeting us."
Stephanie turned to Nick. "Elizabeth wants you to come right in."
"I expected that."
"Any news on Ronnie and Lamont?" Selena asked.
"No."
They got into the car. Nick got in the back seat. Selena sat up front with Stephanie.
"What's happening in the Baltics?" Selena asked.
"The weather has cleared up but everything is on hold. The Russian advance has stopped but they haven't pulled out. The nuke destroyed a sizable chunk of Riga and took out one of their tank battalions and a motorized division. There are thousands of dead and wounded. The airport wasn't damaged and international relief teams are flying in even though war could start at any moment. NATO has been building up their logistics in Lithuania and Estonia. They're ready to attack if the order is given. Rice has held off on the air strikes until we know if Orlov is going to back down. If he doesn't, Rice is going take his foot off the brake."
"Has he talked with Orlov yet?"
"All I know is that they had a brief conversation several hours ago. That was a big impr
ovement and the reason why Rice is holding back."
Stephanie looked at her watch. "There should be a call happening right now."
Traffic was moderate. Forty minutes later they were at Project headquarters. Elizabeth looked up as they came into her office. They took a seat on the couch opposite her desk. The cat jumped up on the couch next to Selena, draped himself across her lap and began purring.
"He's glad you're home," said Elizabeth. "So am I. How's your arm, Nick?"
"I'll be all right. I'm supposed to keep the cast on for a few weeks."
"Selena?"
"I'm fine, Director."
Elizabeth picked up her pen and began turning it around in her hands. "We have to talk about what happened. Ronnie is out of immediate danger but Lamont is in a medically induced coma."
"He's tough," Nick said. "He'll be fine." His voice made it clear he wasn't going to hear anything different.
"I'm sure he will be," Elizabeth said. "But it's going to be quite a while before either one of them will be ready for duty. I'm down to just you and Selena. I need to know how the two of you feel about things."
"What do you mean?" Nick said.
"This has been a bad year. No one would blame you if you said you'd had enough."
Nick was about to answer when Elizabeth's direct line from the White House signaled a call. She picked up.
"This is Director Harker."
"Please hold for the president."
"Rice is calling," Elizabeth said.
"Director Harker, this is the president."
"Good morning, Mister President."
"I'm calling because I want you to know that your team has been instrumental in averting war with Russia."
"That's very good news, Mister President. I'm not sure how you've arrived at that conclusion but thank you. My team is here with me, sir. I'd like to put you on speaker if that's all right."
"That will be fine, Director."
Elizabeth activated the speaker. Selena reached over and took Nick's hand. The cat purred on her lap.
"President Orlov has guaranteed that his forces will withdraw back into federation territory beginning immediately," Rice said. "He is committing significant resources towards the relief effort in the aftermath of the nuclear explosion. The missile launch was not intentional. It appears to have been an electronic problem with the control system on one of their advanced tanks. The tank was destroyed in the explosion, so we'll never really know. He swears that no direct order was given to fire that missile. I believe him."