All through his tour, the staff had remained cordial and polite. This surprised Rodin, who had expected to find a bit more callousness — especially given their current predicament. The Premier supposed that a great deal of this decorum was prompted by the presence of his host. Everywhere they went, Robert Palmer led the way, always quick with his introductions.
Knowing the majority of the crew on a first name basis, Palmer seemed never at a loss for the light banter that was so effective in making a tense situation more bearable.
His lighthearted attitude also had its effect on Rodin. Infected by the President’s charm, the Premier felt instantly relaxed and, considering the situation, generally well accepted. He could just imagine the gloom and doom that would characterize his own command plane if the situation were reversed. In fact, he seriously doubted if his aides would even let Palmer step aboard the flying Kremlin. If they survived this day, Rodin promised himself that he would do his best to eliminate such unnecessary paranoia wherever possible.
The President had been on the phone since they had returned to the conference room. Now he hung up the receiver and met Rodin’s curious gaze.
“It appears that we’re getting close, Viktor, but still no cigar. That was Admiral Miller, commander of the Pacific’s Third Fleet. He reports that one of our Kamin Seasprite helicopters tagged an unidentified submarine in the extreme southern sector of the Vulkan’s intended launch area. The chopper pilot was in the process of conveying the object’s sound signature when the radio abruptly went dead. At present, we’re rushing every available anti-sub platform into that sector, on the assumption that what they picked up was indeed the Vulkan”
“Do they know why your helicopter broke radio contact?” the Premier asked.
“I’m afraid the Kaman is presumed down,” Palmer said heavily.
“The way things now appear, I’m afraid that our approaching units are never going to make it in time. If only we had an additional hour!”
Empathizing with the President’s frustration, Rodin replied, “Once more, I can’t tell you how sorry I am that this whole nightmare came about. I take full responsibility for the entire situation. I know my apology isn’t much, but what more can I offer?”
“Easy, now, Viktor, we’re not licked yet.”
But the Premier’s feelings of helplessness caused him to disagree.
“The seconds continue to tick away, and what have we to show for it?
Our best efforts have netted us absolutely nothing. All this leads up to one more question that I have to ask you, Robert: What will be your government’s response if the unthinkable comes to pass … and the Vulkan’s load of missiles are released?”
Palmer answered directly.
“I think the best way to answer that would be to call in my top foreign policy advisors and see what’s on their minds. Is that agreeable with you, my friend?”
Rodin nodded and watched the President speak into his intercom.
“Delores, I’d like to see the Secretary of State and Mr. Carrigan at once.”
“Very good, Mr. President,” returned a high pitched, nasal voice.
A moment of strained silence followed, as Rodin swiveled around and peered out of the porthole. Since they were in front of the wings, he had an unobstructed view of the land below. He recognized the long, narrow peninsula of barren land visible beneath the cloudless skies as belonging to Mexico’s westernmost shoreline. He was the process of scanning the blue waters of the Pacific, when there was a knock on the compartment’s door. The Premier turned to see two men enter. One was Patrick Carrigan, the President’s National Security advisor whom he had met not long after landing in Los Angeles. The other person was an older, robust, whitehaired figure whose frequently photographed face was most familiar.
As always. Palmer was quick with the introductions.
“Viktor, you know Mr. Carrigan, yet I believe this is the first time that you’ve met my Secretary of State, George Michaelson.”
The two statesmen shook hands and the Premier offered a sincere greeting.
“It is a pleasure to at last meet you, Mr. Michaelson. Since you have taken your present post, your work has been greatly admired.”
Pleasantly surprised by the unexpected compliment, the Secretary of State responded in kind.
“The pleasure is mine, sir. Like all of us, I’ve looked forward to this day with the greatest of expectations.
I’m only sorry that it has been clouded by this unnecessary crisis.” “You and I both,” Rodin said as he took his seat along with the others.
The President sat forward and initiated the conversation.
“I’m sure that you’ve heard about the Seasprite going down. It’s damn bad luck that they didn’t get a definite on that bogey, but chances are that it was the Vulkan. I just got off the horn with Admiral Miller.
He’s in constant contact with our task force, which is currently closing in on the last coordinates reported by the helicopter. He’s also monitoring the approach of the USS Triton, our Los Angeles-class attack sub that had previously tagged the Vulkan in this same general area. Unfortunately, the Admiral reports that the surface ships are too distant to close by 2130 hours — the intended launch time. We’ve got to be realistic: With the Triton as our only hope, the odds of stopping the Vulkan in time are continually decreasing.
“I’ve asked you two to join us in an effort to clear the air of all misconceptions. Both of you are free to be completely candid. Trust amongst ourselves is all that we have left.
“The question that we have for you is extremely basic. I know that each one of you has been considering it for sometime now, so here it goes. What course of action do you advise the United States of America to take if the Vulkan’s missiles are indeed released?
Patrick, why don’t you start us off?”
Momentarily surprised by the nature of Palmer’s request, Carrigan stared at Rodin suspiciously before beginning.
“I think it would be best for me to start with the manner in which we have already reacted to the list of targets that the General Secretary was kind enough to give us. Because of the sensitive nature of the sites involved, we have taken the following actions.
Per the request of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, alternative communications systems have been activated worldwide.
This includes sac’s Silk Purse, Scope Light, and Blue Eagle flying-command posts, and our minimum, essential emergency communications network.
These steps will hopefully insure that military communications will not be totally decapitated.
“When the delicate issue of evacuation was brought up, it was unanimously agreed that the nation’s underground command posts would remain on duty.
This includes the Pentagon, Cheyenne Mountain, Offut Field, and the various alternative national command centers. The only instances whereby evacuation has been permitted concerns non-essential dependents living in or around the various targeted military installations. To guarantee security, this operation is being carried out under the cover of being just another exercise.
“My biggest concern remains with the residual radioactive fallout created by the blasts and spread throughout the country on the easterly winds; the panic that will ensue once the first warhead explodes; and, last but not least, the tragedy we’re facing in Southern California. A strike by only a handful of nuclear weapons over the Los Angeles basin will produce over one million instant casualties. I fear that our decision not to immediately evacuate the city could be a costly one.”
Palmer quickly interjected, “My decision on that matter remains firm, Patrick. I am wholeheartedly convinced that an evacuation at this time, and the resulting panic it would inevitably produce, will cost us more lives than it will save.”
Carrigan responded icily.
“Even if a few hundred thousand souls could be saved by such a move, my final estimate is that this single attack will cost us twenty-five million lives, at the minimum.”
Sta
ggered by the figure, George voice trembled.
“Never before in the history of diplomacy has a country been faced with such monumental decisions as we must make. I can only return to Great Britain’s decision during World War II to knowingly allow the Nazis to bomb the city of Coventry, resulting in the loss of hundreds of lives.
Of course, that was to make certain that the Germans didn’t find out that the British had cracked their most secret Ultra code, and, in fact, knew of the attack beforehand.
“Because of the unbelievable loss of life and property that a nuclear strike will produce, it’s very hard for me just to turn the other cheek and recommend that we merely ignore the bombs because of the unpremeditated circumstances. Once the first mushroom cloud forms over American soil, my gut instinct will be to side with the surviving public — who will be crying out for some type of hard response to avenge this despicable crime. The number-one priority will be finding the bastards who are responsible for this insanity.”
“I agree with you!” the Premier said firmly.
“No matter the personal sacrifice demanded, I swear to you that I will focus my every effort into tracking down the conspirators. I have already initiated just such an investigation. Led by a handful of trusted agents, elements of the Soviet Union’s internal police force, the MVD, are working around the clock to discover the malefactors. The results of this inquiry are expected shortly.
“It is my guess that we are dealing with a small clique of embittered, sick souls. Since the top-secret information that they acquired lies at the very heart of my command staff, I don’t think that I’ll have to be looking far.”
Allowing himself a calming breath, Rodin added, “Comrade Michaelson, you mentioned that if the bombs do fall, you favor a hard retaliatory response.
Do you mean militarily?”
Far from proud of his decision, the Secretary of State somberly nodded his assent.
Patrick Carrigan offered an explanation.
“George and I have discussed this subject intensively. Our decision was far from an easy one. The crux of the matter revolves around the general public’s initial reaction to the attack. I think it’s safe to say, with some certainty, that the citizens of the United States will not sit back and let this strike go unanswered. If we don’t react, and react strongly, not only do we face a general insurrection, but also the very real threat of a military coup d’etat. That is why we favor response based upon the eye for an eye principle. For each target that Soviet missiles destroy on American soil, we should take out an equivalent site within the USSR. Not only will this course of action appease civilian demands, it will also guarantee military parity.”
But Robert Palmer could not accept his advisor’s decision.
“I beg to differ with you, Carrigan. How the hell can you justify killing millions more just to get even? Don’t you see — that will only give the ones responsible for this madness exactly what they want!
Bomb will follow bomb, and before it’s over the entire planet will fall victim to this conflict. You don’t really think that a military response is the only answer, do you George?”
Staring the President right in the eye, the Secretary of State said, “In this instance, I’m afraid that I do, Mr. President. It goes against my grain to admit it, but right now I have no alternatives.
“Several months ago, while I was still teaching at Harvard, I chaired a seminar comprised of a select group of the West’s top defense analysts.
Our own Patrick Carrigan attended. At that time, a nuclear attack scenario, much like the one we currently face, was presented to the group. Though a great deal of controversial discussion ensued, the panel eventually reached an agreement. No population, no matter how socially conscious, could accept a nuclear attack without any visible response on their government’s part. As we learned during the mid-1980’s in dealing with the crisis of terrorism, if the guilty parties can be found and isolated, they must be subsequently eliminated.
Turn your cheek from this nuclear strike, Mr. President, and you’ll be facing an insurrection that will make the Viet Nam protests seem like a children’s birthday party!”
Of all the unlikely places, George Michaelson found support from the lips of Viktor Rodin.
“I am certain that if the tables were turned, I would be faced with the very same dilemma. I would not expect my people to allow a flight of Trident missiles into the Rodina and, as you Say merely turn the other cheek.
Yet, I fear that a secondary strike on your part will prompt our generals to answer with a counter strike I fear President Palmer is correct in his assumption that this is exactly what the conspirators are hoping for. If America can’t be crippled by a single first-strike attack, the next best thing would be to accept some casualties and answer with an even larger attack.”
“And there goes the ball game!” Palmer concluded succinctly.
His terse comment was punctuated by an abrupt shaking of the cabin, as Kneecap plowed into a pocket of rough, unstable air. As the floor and walls began vibrating around them, a sudden change in the previously steady whine of the plane’s engines indicated that the pilot was already seeking a smoother flight path. As the jumbo jet stabilized, a loud chime sounded through the intercom. This was followed by the firm, calm voice of the pilot.
“Please excuse the turbulence, ladies and gentlemen.
We’re passing on the fringe of a low pressure system that’s currently moving into Mexico. The instability extends a bit higher than we expected, so please make certain that your seat belts are securely fastened. We intend to make every effort to reach some smoother air as soon as we are able.”
As the pilot’s explanation ended, there was a loud knock on the conference room door. Palmer said, “Enter,” and the Premier’s secretary, Olga Tyumen, poked her head sheepishly inside.
“Do come in, my dear,” the President prompted.
The shapely blonde appeared a bit uncomfortable as she surveyed the grim faces before her. Noticing her uneasiness. Palmer said lightly, “I hope that group back in the staff quarters are behaving themselves.
It’s not often that Kneecap is graced by such a beautiful woman. If anyone gets out of hand, Olga, you be certain to notify me personally.” She blushed and said, “Thank you. Comrade President.
But everything is most comfortable. Your crew has been most cooperative.”
As the plane was buffeted by another powerful gust of turbulence, Olga found herself thrown off balance.
Only the quick reflexes and tight grasp of Robert Palmer kept her from toppling over. Still holding her firmly in his arms, the President gently said, “You’d better get back to your seat and buckle in, my dear.
When our pilot gives us these warnings, he’s usually not wasting his breath. What was it that you needed?”
Olga took a step back and, holding onto an empty chair, spoke to Viktor Rodin.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Comrade General Secretary, but I thought that you’d want to know about the contents of a strange report I just received from PVO headquarters.”
Carefully reaching over the table, she handed Rodin a folded sheet of notepaper. The Premier quickly read it and confusion filled his face.
“My, this is an odd turn of events. I certainly did not order it.”
President Palmer said calmly, “Perhaps we could be of some assistance.”
“Oh, of course,” Rodin returned.
“I’m not sure what this means, but our national command headquarters reports that the pilot of my personal IL-78 aircraft has just announced that he has taken oft from Los Angeles and has requested a flight plan back to the USSR. Perhaps it’s all a misunderstanding, but this is surely not on my authority.”
Patrick Carrigan reacted first. “We were informed of the IL-78’s request for take-off a quarter of an hour ago. It was assumed that it had been initiated by the General Secretary, so it was routinely approved.”
“There must be some rational reason behind
this unexpected turn of events,” the Premier reflected.
“Olga, please be so good as to try to reach the aircraft.
Perhaps the pilot can tell us just what is going on there.”
“Could this have something to do with the takeover on the Vulkan’!” Carrigan asked.
Rodin held his response until Olga Tyumen left the compartment.
“Right now, I really can’t say. All I know for certain is that, at the moment, I can’t take anything for granted.”
Sensing his guest’s frustration. President Palmer said, “This is a most confusing day for all of us, my friend. If somehow the fates are with us, and we see ourselves past this crisis, we must do everything within our power to insure that such a nightmare can never threaten us again. The immediate abolition of all nuclear weapons will be a first step in guaranteeing the security of the planet for the generations that follow.”
“You will certainly have my complete cooperation,” said the Premier, who now seemed drained of all energy.
“I just hope that it isn’t already too late.”
With this, the President excused his advisors — after accepting a plea on their part for him to keep his mind open to the military options just presented. Alone once more, the two leaders of the world’s mightiest nations somberly faced each other.
“Would you really order a nuclear counter strike if the Vulkan’s missiles are released?” Rodin asked quietly.
The President thought for a moment, then said, “Even though my heart says absolutely no, I wonder if I will have much choice in the matter.
I can only continue to pray that I won’t be forced to make such a grave decision.”
Rodin swiveled in his chair to gaze out of the porthole. As he did so, the plane shook violently.
Tightly grasping the arms of his chair, he peered outside. It took the Premier only seconds to locate the apparent source of the turbulence.
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