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EndWar e-1

Page 20

by Tom Clancy


  “Does she know what time it is here?”

  “Obviously, she does.”

  “What does she want?”

  “She wouldn’t say. She wanted to speak to both of us together. I hope, for your sake, General, that everything is going as planned.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  “All right, I’m putting her through.”

  The screen divided into two images: Kapalkin on the left and Colonel Viktoria Antsyforov, that dark-haired beauty, on the right.

  Antsyforov was wearing an expensive fur coat and hat, and stood near a tree in a wooded area draped in snow. Her breath steamed in the cold air. “Hello, gentlemen.”

  “Hello, Snegurochka,” said Izotov. “I hope you’ve called with good news.”

  “Yes. There is no way we will lose this war.”

  “Very well, then. Stand by, and we will contact you with the confirmation code—”

  “Uh, no, General. When I said we, I wasn’t talking about you.” She shifted, to the left, allowing a man dressed in a green cowl to appear: Green Vox. “I was talking about the Green Brigade Transnational.”

  “Hello, purveyors of death,” said Green Vox.

  Izotov threw up his hands. “Colonel, what now?”

  “There is a suitcase in Edmonton, another one in Calgary. Ten kilotons in each. As planned. But now we control both of them. And again, when I say we, I mean us — not you.”

  Izotov spoke through gritted teeth. “Colonel, this terrorist scum is merely a subcontractor, nothing more. I’m unsure what you’re trying to say.”

  “I’m saying, dear General, dear President, that our plan has changed.”

  Izotov leaned farther forward on his bed and widened his eyes on her.

  Colonel Viktoria Antsyforov was, in his opinion, one of the most brilliant and trusted GRU officers in the history of the organization. When the security leak involving Doletskaya had been exposed and the Euros had alerted the Americans, it’d been she who had gone underground by staging her own death with their help. She had erased herself from the organization — all in the name of restoring the Motherland to greatness.

  And now she was saying it was all a lie?

  She had even given her body to Izotov, pleasured him in ways that no woman ever had.

  Now even that meant nothing to her?

  They were going to use the threat of tactical nuclear weapons to bluff the Americans and Euros into giving them Alberta, should the conventional ground war fail.

  “What are you talking about, Colonel?” asked Kapalkin.

  “I’m saying that this oil has become the root of all evil. I’m saying that Mother Gaia can no longer survive if this struggle continues. I’m saying we are going to detonate both of the nuclear devices. And there’s nothing you can do to stop us.”

  Izotov noticed how Green Vox reached over and clutched Antsyforov’s hand.

  The president sighed deeply. “All right, Colonel. You’ve sacrificed a lot. You want money. I understand. Let us go back to sleep, and we’ll begin negotiations tomorrow.”

  “There will be no negotiations.”

  “Excuse me?” asked Izotov.

  “Within forty-eight hours, the reserves in Alberta will be contaminated, the cities of Edmonton and Calgary uninhabitable. We will ensure that the Russian Federation is held responsible for this by fully revealing your plan. And forget using this call as evidence. I’ve taken care of that as well as the deactivation of my chip. You can’t kill me.”

  “Colonel, have you gone insane?” asked Izotov.

  “No, General. I have never seen things more clearly.”

  “Enough games,” said Kapalkin. “We will call you in the morning, and you will name your price.”

  “No price. Only a clock for you to watch… and time for you to think about what you are doing to our world.”

  Izotov dug fingernails into his palms. “What are you waiting for then?” He threw up his hands. “Detonate the nukes!”

  She took a deep breath and sighed. “We will wait until as many civilians as possible can escape. Then, with all of those military units in the area, we will achieve maximum effect against the Federation.”

  “Name your price!” cried Kapalkin.

  She took a step toward the camera, opened her slightly chapped lips. She suddenly grinned, glanced away, then looked up. She said very slowly, “No… price…”

  “So you’re going to do it,” said Izotov. “You’re terrorist scum now.”

  “No. You have no idea who I am, and why I do what I do. No idea. Good-bye.”

  Izotov sat there a moment, stunned. Kapalkin was equally speechless. “I could not have anticipated this,” Izotov finally said.

  “Nor I. But what do we do now? We can’t let her destroy those reserves.”

  “No, we can’t.”

  “We’ll send in two teams to find the weapons, pull out all of our forces.”

  Izotov shook his head. “If we pull out, and the weapons are detonated, there will be no denying we are responsible.” Izotov thought a moment. “We could lie and say we were tipped off, but that would still mean we are in bed with the enemy. Also, our nuclear search teams would never make it in time — especially if they have to penetrate American defenses. I’m at a loss. There is no one in the GRU I trusted more than her. No one. This is… unbelievable.”

  Kapalkin bolted up, walked away from the camera, then cursed and said, “Do you know what I’m going to do now, General? I’m going to do something that will shock you.”

  “At this moment that will be difficult.”

  “Oh, this will bring you to your feet.”

  THIRTY-THREE

  The Russians had cleared a path through the roadblock of demolition derby cars that Vatz and the local boys had constructed across Highway 35. Enemy rockets had reduced more than half of the vehicles to heaps of blackened and burning wreckage, though the hulks themselves could still be pushed back into place. It would take at least an hour or two for Vatz’s team to repair and reinforce the obstacle. Thankfully, the team’s little surprise for the Spetsnaz mechanized infantry had remained intact. Sadly, the eight Mounties who had been defending the area had been killed; Vatz put two of his men in charge of picking up the bodies, which would be taken back to the airport. The atmosphere was at once tense and grim.

  Band-Aid had been stabilized and moved into the terminal, where one of the medics from Zodiac team had established a makeshift infirmary. Consequently, assistant medic Beethoven was cut loose and able to come along with Vatz.

  He and the medic drove a civilian car nearly three kilometers north along the highway. They pulled over into a ditch and hopped out to survey the plains in the distance. Twice Vatz had tried to use the Cross Comm to pull up imagery from drones flying over the area, but the Russians were back to jamming their frequencies.

  They both lay in the embankment with binoculars pressed to their eyes. Vatz asked, “Got anything?”

  “Thought I saw a reflection. Gone now.”

  “You all right?”

  “Sergeant, I can barely keep my eyes open.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Can I ask you something? What if the Tenth doesn’t show up? What if they get new orders?”

  “New orders? I don’t think so. They’ll be here.”

  “And if they don’t come, the Russians will roll in and pounce on us.”

  “I like your positive attitude.”

  “I’m a realist. There’s no way we can hold this town. No way.”

  Vatz closed his eyes a moment. The guy was right. They could delay the battalion, but hold them off entirely?

  “Hey, Sergeant?” called Beethoven. “Wait a minute. Think I got something.”

  Vatz snapped open his eyes, squinted through his binoculars.

  President David Becerra wasn’t sure how to feel about the request for a conference call with President Vsevolod Vsevolodovich Kapalkin and General Sergei Izotov.

  The Russians ha
d thus far been ignoring all such requests from the JSF and Euros, and now they wanted to talk? Would it be a final threat? Would they demand surrender and want to talk terms? Would they suggest something even more ridiculous?

  Becerra’s impulse had been to ignore them. Let them stew a while. But within an hour after the Russians’ request, he had asked Mark Hellenberg to get General Kennedy on the line and contact Moscow.

  Three windows opened on Becerra’s screen. Kapalkin wore an odd expression. Izotov appeared so disgusted that he could barely look up. General Kennedy was, of course, her impeccably groomed self and the consummate professional, ready for battle.

  “Mr. President, General,” Becerra began, acknowledging each man with a curt nod. “I’ll first say that I’m shocked by your request to talk.”

  “We are shocked, too,” said Izotov. It was obvious he’d been forced into the call.

  “Mr. President, we have a matter to discuss that is of grave importance,” said Kapalkin.

  “Yes, we do. Get your forces out of Canada. Otherwise, I promise, you won’t recover from this one. Not this one.”

  Izotov began to smile.

  “You find this amusing, General?” Becerra widened his eyes, about to raise his voice.

  “Mr. President, we will do as you ask,” said Kapalkin.

  “Excuse me?” Becerra nearly fell out of his chair. He glanced across the cabin at Chief of Staff Hellenberg, who shrugged in confusion.

  Kapalkin went on: “I said, we will comply. However, we must first work together to address another problem.”

  “Work together?” Now it was Becerra’s turn to smile. “If you’d like to do that, then first you’ll cease all military operations around the globe. Your desire to expand the Russian Federation ends today.”

  “Shut up, Becerra!” cried Izotov. “You have no idea what is at stake here!”

  Kapalkin fired off a sharp retort in Russian, silencing Izotov. He took a moment to catch his breath, to compose himself. Then he said, “Mr. President, we’ve learned that the Green Brigade Transnational has planted two nuclear weapons in Canada, one in Edmonton, the other in Calgary. The exact locations are unknown. These are suitcase bombs, ten kiloton. We are certain they are there. The terrorists are trying to blackmail the Russian Federation and, of course, destroy the reserves.”

  Becerra folded his arms over his chest. “Prove it.”

  Kapalkin raised an index finger like a weapon. “You can do one of two things. You can doubt us, ignore us, and in less than two days you will have your proof because the Brigades will detonate the weapons. Or you can trust me and send in two of your NEST teams, one to each city, to find and deactivate the bombs. Your teams can get there before ours can.”

  The Nuclear Emergency Support Teams that Kapalkin had mentioned were nuclear physicists and scientists working in the nation’s weapons labs. They were heavily equipped and highly trained at sniffing out bombs.

  “Why hasn’t the Brigade contacted us directly?” asked Becerra.

  “As I said, they’re trying to blackmail the Russian Federation and blame us for the destruction. They believe we are the instigators of this war. They will detonate the nukes in less than two days. They’re waiting for more civilians to be evacuated and more military forces to move into the cities. If we attempt to pull out our forces, we assume they will detonate the nukes. Mr. President, the loss of those reserves would be catastrophic to your economy and to the world’s. So this time, we must work together to stop them.”

  Becerra’s thoughts were flooded with what-ifs. “Mr. President, if you don’t mind, I’d like to have a word in private with General Kennedy.”

  “By all means.”

  Becerra switched to a private channel. “General, I’m at a loss here. Are they playing us?”

  The general’s gaze went distant. “Hard to say. Our NEST teams could verify the presence of nukes, that’s for sure. We can’t trust the Russians, but it wouldn’t hurt to send in those teams.”

  “If they’re lying to us, then what would they gain by all this? Do they need our teams for some other purpose?”

  “I don’t know. But if they’re being honest, and the nukes go off—”

  “That’s what bothers me,” Becerra interrupted. “The nukes go off and the reserves are lost. What happens? The price of Russian oil and gas skyrockets.”

  “Exactly. So it’s odd they come to us with this story. You’d think they’d let the reserves be destroyed.”

  “But that’s short-term. Long-term, they’d have much more to gain if they controlled them.”

  “Definitely.”

  Becerra thought a moment. “I’m just shooting from the hip here, but here’s what I think. The Russians are still in bed with the Brigade. They used them to plant the nukes and intended to bluff us. They figure if their ground war fails, they can threaten nuclear destruction.”

  “But their deal with the terrorists went south.”

  “And that’s the real shock to them. They must have had some people on the inside working with the Brigade, GRU officers they fully trusted, maybe this agent with the codename ‘Snow Maiden.’ ”

  “Now they need us to bail them out,” Kennedy concluded. “And if the nukes were to go off, then you’re right, the price of Russian oil and gas would skyrocket — but the Russians are also trying to court the North Koreans and the Japanese, who’ve been buying more and more oil from the Canadians.”

  “So in the long term, if the nukes go off and the world believes the Russian Federation is at fault, then this becomes a major economic blow to their government.”

  “Exactly. Alienating future allies and taking the blame for nuclear destruction could finish them. We could turn those neutral nations, and they know that — which is why they’ve come to us.”

  “My God, General, I hope we’re right.” Becerra switched back to conference channel. “Gentlemen, it seems you have everything to lose, and we risk only a couple of search teams. Those teams will be marked with locator beacons, and you’ll need to communicate with your forces so that our teams are not engaged.”

  “We will do that,” said Kapalkin.

  “But it will be difficult,” added Izotov. “Both of our forces are using electronic countermeasures and jamming. We will try, but we can make no promises.”

  “Well, General, I hope for your sake your people don’t kill them. Now, it’s my understanding that we’ll need to continue ground operations so the terrorists don’t prematurely detonate the nukes. But you will not send in any more forces. The planes you have in the air? Turn them around. Do I make myself clear?”

  “We will agree to that,” said Kapalkin.

  “Finally, if by some small miracle we’re able to pull this off, I would expect that you would withdraw all troops from Canada. Completely. And then, once the Canadians have assessed their damages, we will discuss reparations.”

  “Becerra, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” said Kapalkin.

  “Oh, we won’t. We’ll also discuss reparations for every nation involved in the construction and operation of the International Space Station.”

  “Perhaps we should have kept to ourselves,” said Izotov. “You Americans are all the same — always with your hand out. The world does not owe you anything.”

  “In this particular case, General, you owe us something: the truth. And if you’re lying now, then the hand coming at you will not be empty — if you understand my meaning.”

  Izotov snickered. “I understand.”

  “President Becerra, protecting those Canadian reserves is in the best interests of both of our governments,” said Kapalkin. “Let us focus on that and not use this situation as a bargaining tool to address other conflicts or desires.”

  “We’re going to put everything on the table here. But you’re right. We can’t do anything until we’re sure those nukes have been deactivated. General Kennedy? I’d like you to coordinate with General Izotov.”

  Kennedy nodded, tho
ugh the awkwardness in her expression was clear.

  “Gentlemen, we will be in touch with further details.” Becerra broke the link with them and returned to the private channel with General Kennedy. “Let’s get those NEST teams called up and in the air.”

  “Yes, sir. But, sir, have we just climbed into bed with the Russians?”

  “They say to keep your enemies close. Can’t say I like sleeping with them, though. Let’s get to work.”

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Sergeant Raymond McAllen and his Marines, along with Khaki, the Russian helicopter pilot Pravota, and their rescued pilot Major Stephanie Halverson, had been hiking away from the chopper for about four hours, following the woods south, taking short breaks roughly every forty-five minutes.

  The snow was knee-deep in a few spots, and it was slow going to be sure. Halverson had warmed up and refused to be pulled in the litter, though McAllen could tell she wouldn’t last much longer. The Russian wasn’t faring much better.

  McAllen called the next halt, and they gathered below a stand of white spruce, hidden by the dense evergreen branches, while Gutierrez and Palladino took off ahead to reconnoiter the path and report back. Szymanski was keeping an eye to the rear, which thus far had been clear of pursuing ground forces.

  Halverson’s survival kit had been left behind, but the Russians began dogging them from the air, with the occasional Ka-29 passing over the forest, driving all of them into the snow for cover. McAllen had been forced to break radio silence to get an update on their pickup, and they learned they had at least two more hours to wait until their bird arrived. They could shave off some of that time by continuing to head south.

  McAllen was qualified to guide in the chopper, but so was Khaki, so when their taxi arrived, the Canadian had volunteered for those honors.

  As they sat there, huffing beneath the trees, McAllen offered up the last few pieces of his chocolate-coated energy bar to anyone willing.

  Halverson took a piece and said, “You look like you’re freezing. You want the suit?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve been accused of being cold-blooded, so it all works out.”

 

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