by Saul Herzog
“They’d bloody us in a fight, sir. There’s no doubt about that.”
“So, it’s fair to say there are valid reasons a Commander in Chief might want to do everything in his power to avoid a hot war with Russia?”
“A hot war with them would be up close and personal, sir. We’d win, I have no doubt about that…”.
“But at what cost, Roth?”
Roth looked at him, he looked into the eyes of the most powerful man on the planet and knew he didn’t have it in him to fight this fight.
“If we don’t fight them now, sir, they’ll only grow bolder. They’ll grow more aggressive. They’ll invest in ever more destructive technologies.”
The president raised a hand. “Now tell me how we’d fare against China.”
“For one thing, China doesn’t have a Cold War nuclear arsenal,” Roth said. “For another, they lack the war-fighting experience we’ve gained in Iraq and Afghanistan. Their forces are green, untested.”
“So China’s not a player?”
“I didn’t say that, sir.”
“Then spell it out for me, Roth. Tell me like it’s my first day in office. What have I got to fear from the People’s Liberation Army?”
“Well, sir, first off, there’s the sheer numbers. As things stand, they have a fully modernized force of a million troops.”
“And they’ve got a new tank, don’t they?”
“The Type 15, sir.”
“And their navy? They’ve been investing there too, haven’t they.”
“Correct, sir. Their navy is now the largest in the world. They’re commissioning twenty new ships per year. Formidable, modern craft. Aircraft carriers, next-generation nuclear submarines, underwater drones.”
“And in the air?”
“They’ve bought or stolen all the technology they need to make active operations in their air space extremely dangerous.”
“If we were to attempt airstrikes?”
“We’d lose planes and pilots, sir.”
“A lot of planes and pilots.”
“Correct, sir.”
“Keep going.”
“They’ve got a new airborne warning system with advanced drones and integrated artificial intelligence.”
“And ballistic missiles?”
“Three hundred warheads and growing at a fast clip. At current levels, they have the industrial base to out-construct us. They already have more medium-range missiles than us and the Russians combined, thanks to their refusal to join Cold War nonproliferation pacts. They’ve also developed a hypersonic capability that’s potentially on par with our own, as well as formidable new anti-ship missiles.”
“Carrier killers.”
“That’s what they’re calling them, sir.”
“Could they kill our carriers, Roth?”
“No one knows, sir. They’ve never tried.”
“They’ve never tried.”
“No, sir.”
The president let out a quick laugh. “And we don’t want them to try, do we, Roth?”
Roth shook his head.
“They’ve got a sting in their tail,” the president said. “Don’t they?”
“They do, sir.”
“So keep that in mind when I say what I have to say next.”
Roth nodded. There was nothing more he could do. He could see the president’s mind was made up. He was too scared to fight.
“As Commander-in-Chief of this country,” he said, “I can not in good conscience take us into two wars that could, even by conservative estimates, cost millions of American lives.”
“I don’t see...” Roth said before the president cut him off.
“It’s not a question of politics, Roth. I know the people would unite behind a war.”
“Is it a question of preparedness, because…”.
“It’s a question of faith, Roth.”
“Faith, sir?”
The president nodded. He looked very closely at Roth, almost to the point of making Roth uncomfortable, and said, “Do you believe, Roth?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
“Do you pray, Roth? To God? To a Creator?”
Roth looked uncomfortable. He was not an atheist, not by any measure, but it had been a very long time since he’d given himself to thoughts of anything but the most worldly of concerns.
“Never mind,” the president said. “You don’t have to answer.”
“It’s not that, sir.”
“The point is,” the president continued, “war on the scale you’re suggesting, would be apocalyptic in scale.”
Roth didn’t know what to say. Of course war was apocalyptic. Every war, since the dawn of time, had been apocalyptic to the men fighting it.
But fight it they did.
If they had to.
“So you want to let them get away with it?” he said.
“No,” the president said. “The man behind this is dead, is he not?”
“Killed against your orders,” Roth said, then regretted it.
“Yes,” the president said. “You’re right there. Which leads me to the crux of this conversation.”
Roth knew what he was going to say, but didn’t dare interrupt.
“We’ve got footage of Spector breaking into the Moscow embassy. We’ve got havoc outside the front gate while he escaped. For the good of the nation, I’ve got to pin these attacks on someone.”
“Sir,” Roth said, but the president stopped him.
“It’s a choice between one man,” the president said, “and the lives of millions. And I choose one man.”
“I don’t think you can measure choices like that, sir.”
The president shook his head. “I’m sure you’re right, Roth, but I don’t have the luxury of philosophizing. Our nuclear forces are at their highest alert level since President Kennedy squared off against Khrushchev.”
“Who was it that said the ends don’t justify the means?” Roth said. “Machiavelli?”
“Ovid,” the president said.
Roth nodded. “Ovid.”
The president shook his head. “I’m sorry we can’t see eye to eye on this, Roth, but the decision’s been made. A team at the NSA is already falsifying evidence. The official position will be that Spector was behind the bombings in both Moscow and Beijing.”
“I see, sir,” Roth said.
“I need your assurance that the CIA won’t pull any more tricks when Spector’s plane lands.”
Roth nodded.
“I mean it, Roth. No tricks.”
“Of course, sir. You have my word. No tricks.”
87
When Laurel heard what the president had decided, it was all she could do not to fling her glass across the room. She was sitting in the living room with Tatyana and Roth. The fire was burning. It was the middle of the night, and Roth had just returned from a private meeting at the White House.
“Lance is the last person who should be taking the fall for this,” she said.
Roth nodded. It was clear he wasn’t happy about the decision, but that didn’t make it any easier for her to swallow.
“He’s the only one who tried to stop this,” she said.
“I know, Laurel.”
“Sandra’s the one who fucked us.”
“They had her daughter,” Roth said.
“Who we rescued.”
“I know, Laurel. I know.”
Laurel realized she was gritting her teeth. She took a deep breath and tried to release some of the tension from her body.
“What about the two women?” Tatyana said. “Larissa and Svetlana.”
“They’re on Lance’s flight,” Roth said. “The president didn’t mention them, so as far as we’re concerned, they’re still entering the country under our protection.”
“Well,” Laurel said, “with all the skullduggery afoot, one of us better be there to make sure that happens. Right now, I could trust the president about as far as I could thr
ow him.”
Roth looked at her. He seemed to be reading her mind. She kept her face blank, giving away nothing.
“I think that’s a good idea,” he said at last.
Laurel was surprised. She hadn’t expected him to agree with anything she said.
“Tatyana,” he said. “You should be there too. Larissa’s your sister, after all.”
“Thank you, sir,” Tatyana said.
“I want you both there the moment that plane lands. Whatever they’ve got planned for Lance, there’s no reason Larissa and Svetlana should get caught up in it.”
“Understood, sir,” Tatyana said.
“Sandra’s going to have the place on lockdown,” Roth continued. “You may have a hard time getting into the airport.”
“Can’t you get us clearance?” Laurel said.
“After what Lance pulled, I don’t think it’s a good time for us to be pulling any favors.”
“So, how will we get in?”
Roth looked at her. “The best way,” he said, “is the eastern service entrance. It will take you directly onto the runway.”
Laurel and Tatyana looked at each other, then at Roth.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Laurel said.
“I’m just explaining the layout of the airport.”
“But they won’t know we’re coming?”
“In order for the CIA to maximize the safety of our defectors, we’re entitled to a presence on the tarmac when the plane touches down. As far as I’m aware, no one’s issued any orders to the contrary.”
Laurel and Tatyana looked at each other again, uncertain whether Roth was saying what they thought he was saying.
“Go now,” Roth said, looking at his watch. “There are two vehicles waiting outside.”
“Two?” Laurel said.
The expression on Roth’s face left no room for doubt. “In case you don’t come back together.”
When Laurel and Tatyana got outside, two black Mercedes Benz AMG G-Class SUVs were waiting for them. In terms of acceleration and raw power, it was clear what Roth had in mind.
“Nice rides,” Laurel said.
Tatyana nodded. “Look in the back.”
Laurel looked in the back and saw it had been loaded with body armor, infrared goggles, tear gas canisters and launchers, tasers, and an array of firearms.
“Fuck,” she said.
“He wasn’t kidding.”
“He wants us to get Lance out.”
“It will mean trouble.”
Laurel nodded. “Yes it will.”
They drove to the airport with Laurel in the lead, and when they got to the service entrance, they found it unguarded but blocked by a gate.
Laurel pulled up to it and got out.
Tatyana stepped up next to her.
They’d already seen signs of the airport’s heightened security. The military had been called in, and troop transports were lined up along the side of some of the access roads. They were empty now, which meant the troops had already been deployed throughout the grounds.
On the tarmac in front of the terminal, a row of six modified H-60 Black Hawk helicopters sat at the ready, engines running. They couldn’t take off without interfering with the airport’s commercial traffic, but they were ready to go if anything happened.
“Looks like they’re ready for us,” Tatyana said.
Laurel nodded.
Tatyana pulled a silenced pistol from her coat and, with a single shot, broke the lock on the gate.
They then drove out onto the concrete that stretched ahead of them like an expanse of salt flats.
In the distance, they could see the force that had been assembled to take Lance into custody, complete with a dozen MRAP vehicles armed with .50 caliber machines guns.
Laurel drove right toward them, and as she got closer, saw that Sandra Shrader was there with the commanding officers.
Some of the soldiers put their hands on their weapons, but Sandra told them to stand down.
“Why are you here, Laurel?” Sandra said, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “Roth was ordered to stand down.”
“Relax,” Laurel said. “We’re just here to see that our two defectors are taken into custody safely.”
“We can see to that for you,” Sandra said.
“They’re still under our jurisdiction,” Tatyana said.
Sandra said nothing. The MRAP guns swung slowly in Laurel and Tatyana’s direction.
For a second, Laurel thought they might open fire. Their orders were to allow no one to interfere with Lance’s apprehension. The military commanders looked to Sandra for an indication of what to do.
Sandra looked at Laurel.
Very subtly, Laurel moved her head ever so slightly to the side and raised the hint of an eyebrow.
She waited.
Sandra hesitated.
And then, finally, she raised her hand and said, “She’s right. We’re here for Lance Spector. The Russians weren’t mentioned in the president’s order. They still belong to the CIA.”
88
President Montgomery stood at the front of the White House press room, looking down at dozens of journalists. Next to him was his Chief of Staff, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, and NSA director Sandra Shrader. He didn’t want there to be any doubt that the entire administration was united behind his speech.
The cameras flashed and clicked like so many machine guns.
It was more reporters than he’d ever seen gather for a statement. Every national and international outlet had shown up for the event, and his press secretary struggled to quieten the crowd.
Sandra had drafted the speech. She hadn’t wanted to do it, she was opposed to every word it contained, but he’d given her no choice.
Even the president himself had to admit he felt a pang of remorse as he glanced over it.
It was wrong.
It was a lie.
Giving this speech was crossing a red line Ingram Montgomery had drawn for himself many years ago. He was about to do one of those things he’d always sworn he wouldn’t.
He was about to lie to the nation and the world, he was going to stand down in the face of evil, and he was going to throw a good man, a loyal man, to the wolves.
He had no choice.
Leading meant making difficult decisions. Distasteful decisions. Even abhorrent ones.
And the stakes couldn’t have been higher.
Despite his earlier attempts to tone down the rhetoric and focus the attention on Lance Spector, the national media coverage continued to focus on the threat of war.
Some called it World War Three.
Others called it a Second Cold War.
In either case, what they referred to was something that threatened the very existence of human life on the planet. And it had never been so close, at any time since the end of the Second World War, as it was right now.
Relations between America, China, and Russia, were falling precipitously, and President Montgomery was not about to allow the three largest military forces ever created to go at each other.
He couldn’t allow it.
“We’re ready for you, sir,” the press secretary said.
He nodded and took a step toward the podium. The camera strobes flashed as if warning him not to say the words he was about to utter.
He cleared his throat.
“My fellow Americans,” he began.
It was an opening he reserved for the most important of announcements. He looked at the assemblage, then at the prompter.
“I address you at a time of grave national peril.”
The cameras flickered like hornets.
“Everywhere, there is talk of war.”
He looked up to see the effect of his words.
“The word can be heard on the streets, in the cities, in the heartland of our great nation. Every media outlet, every newspaper, and magazine, every op-ed and cable news program is obsessed with it. Even in the most hallowed halls
of power, our house of congress, and yes, even in the Oval Office, war is the word on everyone’s lips.”
The audience grew very quiet.
“There are those who believe these bombings represent the greatest assault on our global position in more than a lifetime. They say that not since Pearl Harbor have we witnessed such an egregious affront.”
Heads were nodding.
“They call it a slap in the face. A surprise attack. An out-and-out military assault.”
Every reporter in the room watched with bated breath. Would there be war? That was all they cared about. It would be the biggest news in their lifetime, and it was a story they were all ready to break.
“They say America has been attacked by our two greatest rivals on the planet, Russia, and China, simultaneously.”
Another pause. The tension in the room was oppressive, a physical presence that bore down invisibly on every person present.
“Well, I’m here today to tell you that it’s all a hoax.”
There were gasps from the crowd.
“Perhaps the greatest lie anyone has ever tried to pull on our country.”
The cameras flashed like lightning.
“These dastardly attacks, this wanton carnage, were not the acts of our adversaries, they were not a provocation by our great rivals on the world stage, they were the crazed, maniacal, demented actions of a single man.”
The journalists whispered among themselves.
“Our investigation reveals no challenge from Russia and China, but rather, that these attacks were planned and carried out by a deranged CIA operative intent on pulling the world’s three greatest militaries into a state of war.”
The murmur in the crowd grew louder.
“This is not the first volley in a new Cold War. This is not a Pearl Harbor or a 9/11.”
He cleared his throat. He was about to tell the greatest lie of his presidency and the words didn’t come easy.
“This was an attack from the inside. A cowardly act of treason. A pitiable betrayal. And dare I say it, an act of evil that will go down in the annals of history as a new low point in our great history as a nation. This was the day one of our own sons tried to tear us apart from within.”
The journalists were raising their hands, trying to ask questions.
“This rogue agent, this evil traitor, has a history of violence, a lengthy record of mental health issues, and a tendency to cruelty and perversion that he hid skillfully from the military and the CIA for years.”