The Will Of The People (Conspiracy Trilogy Book 1)

by Christopher Read

  The President continued, “Recent events have precipitated a change in policy, General Grebeshkov; as of now, you will take total charge of the FSB counter-terrorist operation, with direct control over the Police and National Guard. All other of your responsibilities will be delegated elsewhere. I expect the remaining six members of August 14 to be caught or killed by the end of the month. Is that clear, General?”

  “Perfectly clear, Sir.” What else could he say?

  “The National Advisory Committee meets tomorrow at ten to discuss Lithuania. The mess there needs to be cleared up or preferably turned to our advantage. I expect you to attend.”

  Grebeshkov stood as the President left, a mixture of emotions churning inside of him. It wasn’t a court-martial but it might well soon be; there were just over two weeks until the end of May – two weeks to perform a miracle.

  Marshwick, England

  On the market for some eight months but left furnished so it could continue as a holiday let, a short gravelled drive led up to the cottage’s front door. Detached, cottage-style bungalow, two bedrooms, recently modernised, large plot to include small arable field, no onward chain – the agency brochure had done its best but interest had been minimal. Another of the cottage’s key features was its isolation, with the nearest neighbour being some two hundred yards back along the country road towards Marshwick.

  The move from the Farriers definitely offered Anderson far more space, and it would have been foolish to spurn the convenience of a washing machine and kitchen. Both were becoming essential as he was fast running out of clean clothes and thanks to the Farriers also eating far too much. Now it would be back to a less-fattening and rather more basic menu, more down to laziness than lack of culinary skill.

  It had been after six by the time Charlotte had arrived at the Farriers with the house keys. A hurried meal, then with each taking their own car to the cottage, there had been limited opportunity to chat and compare notes. Anderson thus took his time about settling himself in to his new surroundings, working hard to encourage the semi-serious banter with Charlotte which seemed to have become part of their normal routine. But there was also something else, a mutual attraction which neither now tried to disguise.

  Anderson’s offering of red wine might have been rejected but their parting kiss was as tender and affectionate as Anderson could have hoped for. And with Charlotte’s work rota giving her a free Saturday, the promise of a mystery tour around Lincolnshire was something different to look forward to, a free day away from the self-imposed stress of Pat McDowell and Erdenheim.

  Chapter 9 – Saturday, May 15th

  Moscow

  Including Grebeshkov there were now seven members of the President’s inner circle, going by such titles as First Deputy Prime Minister and Presidential Assistant, the National Advisory Committee merely a convenient name for the group of non-elected officials who really held the power in today’s Russia. In truth, Grebeshkov doubted whether any Russian over the age of sixteen actually believed they were ruled by a democratically elected parliament sworn to follow a set of honourable ideals. Democracy might work for the West – although that was debatable – but for Russia a subtle form of autocracy served the needs of the Federation far better. It was a strange and somewhat unsettling experience for Grebeshkov, and he was still coming to terms with being moved from a committee which had no power to one that doubtless had too much.

  Grebeshkov had been the first to arrive by some ten minutes, and a casual nod had been the only sign of greeting as the other members of the Committee had taken their places around the long table. The single woman and only non-silovik was Irina Golubeva: Silovik, a person of force, it meaning a politician whose origins were based in the FSB or some other military-type service. Golubeva’s support had kept Grebeshkov from following the Prime Minister into obscurity and he had felt obliged to bury all records relating to her various liaisons, Grebeshkov’s continuing frustration with his political masters testing even his loyalty.

  As the President brought the meeting to order, a simplified map of the Baltic replaced the Presidential Standard on the various digital displays, Kaliningrad outlined in red. Grebeshkov was impatient to begin, frustrated with every minute wasted. A terrorist every two days – that had become his new, if unlikely, target.

  “The repercussions from Lithuania have been significant,” the President said gruffly, “with protests turning violent in several European capitals, our embassy in Warsaw attacked. We have a moral right to protect our nation from the threat of terrorism and I’m not prepared to offer anything approaching an apology; fortunately, NATO seems keen to downplay the incident and Russia is not alone in demanding answers from Lithuania. Their government denies any complicity with August 14 – apparently the dacha settlement had more to do with drug traffickers than terrorists. Sanctions may persuade Vilnius to be more receptive but it will take time; similarly, it would be foolish to expect the U.N. to offer anything constructive.”

  The President spoke quietly to the aide seated beside him, before tapping a command onto the small table-top console to his right; immediately a red icon flashed on the map display close to Poland’s northern coastline.

  “Lithuania may well prove to be the least of our problems,” said the President with a sigh of frustration. “The terrorist captured there is a Marek Tamm, Estonian, age twenty-three; the dacha complex had apparently been shut down over the winter and we are fortunate that Tamm’s group of twelve was the first to arrive once Nazarenko’s group had left. However, the SVR have now identified a second terrorist base, west of Gdansk, which has possibly been active since at least October; there is also circumstantial evidence to link it with figures within the Warsaw Establishment. An incursion on Polish soil, even a drone strike, would doubtless be worse than Lithuania and we are consequently facing the prospect of a terrorist war for months to come.”

  Grebeshkov well understood the President’s dilemma, it the same as that faced by the Prime Minister just two days earlier. Russia’s allies in Eastern Europe were few and far between, many countries unable or unwilling to forget past Soviet atrocities, Belarus the only one to maintain strong ties with Moscow. Ethnic Russians made up a quarter of Estonia and Latvia’s population, and – together with Poland – the three Baltic States were clearly determined to ensure they would not be the next Ukraine, their own private war leaving Russia with various unpalatable options.

  The President took their continued silence as his cue to resume his analysis, “The number of cyber-attacks on soft targets has continued to grow, with much of Moscow’s transport and energy infrastructure particularly susceptible. Tracing their precise origin has proved difficult with the attacks being redirected via multiple proxy connections; however, I’m told the prime source is again likely to be Eastern Europe, with both Poland and Estonia apparently being centres of suitable expertise.

  “Intelligence indicates the facility in Poland has some twenty residents. In a week, they could be in Russia. In a month, August 14 could have a new base in the Ukraine or Georgia. Time is most certainly not on our side. Our soldiers’ sacrifice might have given us a few days grace, or it could have accelerated August 14’s plans. The FSB has focused much of its efforts on these Lithuanian cells; now there is also the unwelcome likelihood that one or more groups arrived from Poland, perhaps as early as January. Unless the Polish Government generously decides to be more helpful, we presently have no clue as to the number or identity of August 14’s agents already resident here.”

  The President paused briefly, looking across the table at Grebeshkov. “For the moment, we can only focus on the dangers as we know them. In terms of the terrorists trained in Lithuania and presently still at large, General Grebeshkov has assured me that we will have Eglitis and his five remaining associates in custody before the end of the month.”

  And so the pressure mounts. Grebeshkov acknowledged the President’s words with a nod, sensing that it wouldn’t matter anyway. The President
seemed to be working his way towards an alternative that would either solve the problem of August 14 for good, or risk driving the President from power.

  “It’s imperative,” continued the President forcefully, “to show the world our determination to rid Russia of these terrorists. To do that we must dramatically increase the pressure on Poland, and so ensure they in turn react quickly and effectively against August 14; it cannot be allowed to reorganise and so threaten us in the future.” The President’s tone hardened, “Only if we make an example of Poland will the rest of Eastern Europe finally realise the stupidity of allying themselves with those wanting to bully and intimidate Russia.”

  He paused a moment as though for emphasis, “I propose that this can be achieved through the following: firstly, the immediate suspension of certain strategic exports to Poland, including oil supplies via the Druzhba pipeline; secondly, the closing of the Strait of Baltiysk, thus shutting the port of Elblag.” The President tapped the console beside him, and the map of the Baltic zoomed in to show Gdansk Bay, Poland to the west, the Russian enclave of Kaliningrad a hundred and thirty kilometres to the east. “Thirdly, a naval blockade of Poland’s two major ports of Gdansk and Gdynia.”

  The uproar which greeted his words was less than the President had expected but more than he had hoped for. With a resigned shake of his head, he leant back in his chair and waited patiently for the hubbub to cease. Eventually there was silence.

  “Gdansk and Gdynia,” the President explained, “are some twenty kilometres apart, and I’m advised that such a blockade should be relatively easy to implement. Unlike sanctions, a naval blockade would be a visible and dramatic signal as to our intent, sending a message to any other country thinking of harbouring terrorists. Taken together, these three actions would have a significant and immediate effect on Poland’s economy. Russia could, of course, give Poland an ultimatum, a final opportunity to act against August 14 – however, such gestures are pointless unless we could absolutely guarantee that all terrorists would immediately be arrested, and then deported to Russia. In the present climate, whilst Russia threatens but does not act, I do not believe Poland would ever fully comply with such demands. Consequently, these three measures would need to be implemented without prior warning.

  “Poland has neglected its navy: it has no large warships and five outdated submarines. Yet there are of course obvious dangers. Their main naval base is at Gdynia-Oksywie, with a second flotilla at Świnoujście on the border with Germany. However, a show of force, with vessels stationed near the entrance to Gdansk Bay and thus some thirty kilometres from Poland’s naval base, would be unlikely to provoke an immediate military response. Personally, that is a risk I am prepared to take, and naval units from our Baltic Fleet can be in position within hours.

  “The blockade would also bring into sharp focus the terrorists’ training camp, itself barely forty kilometres from Gdansk. Perhaps August 14’s choice of name, and its reference to the strike at the Gdansk shipyards in 1980, is rather more significant than has been suggested. Although they have recruited from across Eastern Europe, the Polish link becomes stronger every day. We might even be looking at their main centre of operations and not some second-tier training camp.”

  The President paused, and the map display opened out slightly, a red icon appearing in the Baltic Sea midway between Poland and the Swedish island of Gotland. “The USS John Finn is an unfortunate complication and we can only guess as to how the United States and NATO would react to such a blockade; active diplomacy would ensure Sweden and Finland remain neutral.

  “Once started, it would be fatal to withdraw our ships without achieving at least some of our aims. It’s imperative to avoid further escalation, but if necessary, we must be prepared to order the military to respond appropriately to any additional deployment of NATO naval forces. We have photographic evidence that at least two Americans, both ex-Marine Corps, are working with August 14 in Gdansk and there can be little doubt the West is indirectly supporting the terrorists. Despite the risks, there is no viable alternative if we truly wish to defeat August 14 quickly and effectively.”

  The President waited patiently for comments. The discussion began slowly at first, but gradually became more heated as the inner cabinet argued the relative merits of what the President proposed. Grebeshkov said little, understanding the need to bully Poland into acting against August 14, but appalled as to the means suggested. Having been brave enough to voice his opposition to the Prime Minister’s plans, he wondered whether he would be brave enough to argue against the President.

  When the vote came well over an hour later, agreement was unanimous. To ensure Russia’s Baltic Fleet had sufficient resources and time to refine its strategy, implementation was delayed by 48 hours, the President confident that his demonstration of Russian might would quickly force Poland to act in turn against the terrorists.

  Even as Grebeshkov arrived at his Lubyanka office after a hurried and very late lunch, a new problem added to the dangers of what the President proposed. Having only appeared on the internet some three hours earlier, a video clip had quickly gone viral. The title implied the footage had been taken by the Lithuanian authorities, it supposedly showing the inside of one of the terrorist dacha’s in Lithuania, and Grebeshkov watched fascinated as the scene unfolded. He assumed the video was a fake, and he paused it repeatedly, looking for obvious mistakes and inconsistencies.

  The opening shot was of a smoke-blackened room, with three unmade beds, a pile of clothes scattered across the floor. The camera moved to an adjoining room, set out like an office, focusing on open desk drawers crammed with document wallets in various colours. Seemingly at random, the unknown cameraman pulled out a selection, spreading their contents across the desktop. The image sharpened to reveal U.S. Field Manuals for the Stinger missile, the M203 grenade launcher and the Claymore antipersonnel mine. Another drawer: this time instructions in English on sabotage techniques together with detailed photos; then more photographs, one clearly showing Eglitis and Baranovskiy talking to a third man, a caption identifying him as a serving officer in the U.S. Marines. And so it went on: yet more photographs, diagrams and maps, including a detailed plan of Moscow’s second international airport at Sheremetyevo, Russian rail and coach timetables...

  Taken together, there was a clear – if overworked – message: these were definitely the terrorists from August 14 and they had help from the West, specifically the United States.

  Grebeshkov was confused by the amateurish nature of the film, but somehow that almost made it more believable. Logic told him no-one would be convinced by such convenient evidence but in the present heady atmosphere logic was all-too often absent, and the film could only stir up more animosity on Moscow’s streets.

  It certainly wasn’t clear to Grebeshkov who had most to gain from such a parody: Russia perhaps, or possibly August 14. And such a film could only embarrass the Lithuanian authorities, giving the lie to their drug-trafficking tale. It might even be as simple as a teenage Steven Spielberg turning his home into a Lithuanian dacha but whoever it was, and whatever their reasons, the U.S. embassy had just been made into a prime target for Moscow’s anger.

  USS John Finn

  The destroyer’s dimly-lit Combat Information Centre (CIC) was filled to over-capacity, the air-conditioning working overtime to maintain the optimum temperature. Young sat in his elevated chair next to the Tactical Action Officer, keeping a wary eye on the dozens of consoles and their operators – some twenty men and women working together to protect the John Finn from every conceivable threat. Most of Young’s interest centred on one of the two large tactical displays, its brightly-coloured symbols providing a real-time projection of all potential targets, with every sensor aboard the John Finn straining itself to capture what electronic intelligence it could.

  Two miles to the south, the Russian frigate Admiral Golovko shadowed the John Finn’s every move, maintaining a respectful distance while seemingly unconcerned by the Finn
’s superiority. Both vessels were of a similar age, the Russian warship having been commissioned slightly earlier than the John Finn in 2013, but there the similarity ended. In terms of displacement the John Finn was twice the Golovko’s size, carried two helicopters against the Golovko’s one, and packed a far bigger punch.

  The Golovko wasn’t the only chaperone, her duties shared with at least two other Russian vessels, varying from one of the new Gremyashchy-class corvettes to an elderly destroyer. The John Finn ignored them all, Young trying not to be intimidated by their presence, and keen to show the calibre of the U.S. Navy.

  The Admiral Golovko had recently transferred from Russia’s Northern Fleet, a strategic redeployment which had more to do with the ageing nature of many of Russia’s ships, than any terrorist threat. However, since the early hours of the morning three more Russian surface vessels had abandoned a training exercise in the Norwegian Sea to head at speed towards the Baltic. With their estimated time of arrival late Monday, NATO had yet to respond, the USS John Finn, backed by naval resources from Northern Europe, presumably felt to be sufficient to curb any further Russian aggression against Lithuania. In any case, the West’s leaders now seemed happy to treat the spetsnaz attack as a very minor incident, and were working hard to reduce tensions. There was even the promise of a full investigation into the exact nature of the dacha complex. To Young, it seemed a poor way to protect an ally, simply turn the other cheek while almost admitting it was your own fault.

  The Russian public were similarly unimpressed but for very different reasons. The internet clip of the dacha complex had brought thousands more out on to Moscow’s streets, irate protesters gathering in the city centre to condemn those seen as supporting the terrorists. Initially, the demonstrators’ focus had been primarily anti-government, but it had quickly shifted to become anti-American, Moscow’s police having to use tear-gas and water-cannon to quell yet another violent confrontation, this time outside the U.S. embassy west of the Kremlin. The fact that the video could easily be fake seemed of little concern to the thousands trying to fight their way through to the embassy, America’s guilt never doubted, the truth merely an irrelevant complication.