Overkill pr-1

by James Barrington

  Autoroute A26, vicinity of Couvron-et-Aumencourt

  Westwood shook his head. ‘So you’re source RAVEN? We had a list of possibles,’ he said, ‘and you were on it purely because of the access we knew you had. We never seriously thought it could be you.’

  Modin shook his head. ‘I am not a traitor,’ he said. ‘At least, I don’t think I am. The information I passed to your man in Moscow earlier was genuine – it was not what you call disinformation – and I revealed it for one reason only. I had to establish a track record with the CIA, so as to be sure that when I told you about this operation you would take my warning seriously. I had to be sure that you would take action to stop it. Podstava,’ he went on, ‘would not have worked. I began to doubt the wisdom of our actions earlier this year, and I even made representations to Minister Trushenko.’ He shook his head. ‘But it was like trying to stop a train – once it’s in motion, it’s impossible. In the beginning, it all seemed so simple, so obvious. Frighten America off the stage. Take Europe without a fight, and at last we would have a platform from which we could truly dominate the world. Make Communism work, really work. Fulfil the dreams of Lenin and the rest.’

  He smiled. ‘I don’t know when it was, but I realized that it wouldn’t work – couldn’t work, in fact. We could take Europe – that would be easy enough – but it was the aftermath. Russia already has ample natural resources, but the fact is that we can’t even feed our own people. Without the grain we buy from America every year, our people would starve. Adding the territories of Western Europe would increase our resources, but we would have to absorb their populations as well, and that would simply mean yet more mouths to feed. We would actually make the situation worse, not better. I opposed glasnost, you know. I didn’t believe that opening our borders to the West would help Russia. Now, I think that Gorbachev and Yeltsin were right. Russia cannot remain a fortress, isolated and remote from the rest of the world, from progress, any longer. If we try to, we will just slip further and further behind. The time has come for Russia to – if you will pardon the expression – come out of the closet.’

  ‘So you decided to tell us about it?’ Richter asked.

  Modin nodded. ‘Yes. It seemed the only way to avoid a conflict that neither side could win. In this matter,’ Modin added, his voice dropping, ‘you and the Americans must work closely together – very closely. Do you understand?’

  Richter shook his head. ‘I’m not entirely sure I do, General,’ he replied.

  ‘Never mind. Just remember what I said. You must work with the Americans.’

  ‘When were you going to tell us about the weapons in the States?’ Westwood asked.

  ‘This week,’ Modin said. ‘Minister Trushenko is to deliver the ultimatum, and he is only waiting for confirmation from me of the placement of this weapon in London.’

  ‘The weapons in America are controlled by your new communications satellite?’ Richter asked. ‘The one in geostationary orbit over the eastern Atlantic?’

  ‘Yes,’ Modin replied. ‘The weapon test in the Tundra, which the Americans flew their spy-plane to investigate, was not actually a test of the bomb – it was a test of the firing mechanism. We had already run exhaustive underground tests of the new weapon. You know,’ he added, ‘that we have developed a strategic-yield neutron bomb?’

  ‘Yes,’ Richter said. ‘Comrade Bykov was somewhat evasive on this point, so I will ask you. Why can’t the Americans simply destroy the satellite? Send up a Shuttle with a laser or something and burn it up?’

  ‘Because our scientists have been much more cunning than that, Mr Beatty. The Americans will have a vested interest in keeping that satellite alive and well. The satellite does not contain a triggering device,’ Modin continued. ‘It contains a hold-fire device – it’s a fail-unsafe system. The satellite receives a signal from an uplink station in Russia, and radiates that signal to the United States. Each weapon is linked to a satellite dish and receiver. As long as the signal is received, the firing circuits are disarmed. If the signal fails, an automated sequence arms the firing circuits and the weapon will explode.’

  Richter thought for a moment. ‘You mean if the satellite is destroyed, or even badly damaged, the weapons you have placed in America will detonate?’

  ‘Exactly, Mr Beatty.’

  Westwood stared at him. ‘Holy shit,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Did the genius who conceived this plan stop to think about what would happen if the satellite suffers a power failure, or gets struck by a meteorite or some space debris?’

  Modin shrugged. ‘There are safety features,’ he replied.

  Richter sat silent for a minute or two. ‘Would you really press the button?’ he said, finally. ‘Would you really reduce America to a smoking ruin?’

  A shadow seemed to cross Modin’s face. ‘That would not have been my decision, Mr Beatty. I have explained, I hope, why I took the actions that I did to try to stop it. This operation,’ he continued, ‘is an abomination. When that lorry slid sideways across the road in front of us I actually felt relieved, because I knew then that someone had finally worked it out, and that meant it could be stopped.’

  ‘Oh, we’ll stop it,’ Richter said. ‘That’s a promise.’

  ‘You mentioned safety features on the satellite,’ Westwood said, his voice still angry. ‘Are you prepared to explain what they are?’

  ‘Yes. I am not a technician, so I can only describe in broad terms how they work. First, there are two satellites, not one, co-located in the same orbital position. This will reduce the chance of system failure, due to external or internal causes. Both radiate the same signal from the uplink station, and we have calculated that the chances of both becoming unserviceable at the same time are virtually nil. The satellite signal has to be interrupted for some time – over forty-eight hours – before the firing circuits on the weapons are armed. That delay is intended to allow time for emergency action to be taken should both satellites fail simultaneously.

  ‘Finally,’ he said, ‘we have over-ride systems that can be enabled to temporarily or permanently disarm the weapons. These systems can be actuated either by signals from the satellites or manually, on the ground. That is all I can tell you.’

  Richter thought about this for a few moments, then changed the subject again. ‘Comrade Modin, we have to decide what to do with you, with Bykov and your Spetsnaz colleagues. You are all – even the drivers – carrying diplomatic passports, so holding you captive is going to get more embarrassing for everyone with every hour that passes. Besides, we don’t want to hold you. We have the weapon, and that was what this whole operation was designed to achieve. My own inclination is to simply let you all climb back into your cars and leave, but in this matter my wishes are subordinate to those of the DST, and the DST, in turn, will have to be guided by the Minister of the Interior and, ultimately, by the French government. What I will do, though, is make representations to my DST colleagues and recommend that we just let you all slip away quietly.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Modin replied.

  Richter looked at his watch, then turned to Westwood. ‘We’re expecting the French Minister of the Interior any time now,’ he said. ‘John, could you check and see what time he’s due to arrive?’ When Westwood had closed the van door behind him, Richter turned back to Modin. ‘General, there is one other small matter that I would like to clear up now.’ Richter told him what he wanted to know, and then he told the Russian why he wanted to find out. After a moment’s hesitation Modin gave Richter the answer he needed.

  ‘I think I know what you intend to do,’ Modin added, ‘and I have no objection.’

  ‘Would you assist me?’ Richter asked. ‘A letter would be a help.’

  Modin looked thoughtful. ‘Yes, Mr Beatty,’ he said. ‘I will write you a letter.’

  The assault team had collected and examined all the bags from the Russian vehicles earlier, and Modin’s briefcase was standing with the others just beside the Transit. Richter jumped out
and collected it, and passed it to the general. Modin opened it and selected a sheet of paper headed with his office details. He took a fountain pen from his pocket and wrote rapidly. When he had finished, he read through what he had written, then passed the sheet over to Richter. ‘I think that will suffice,’ he said.

  Richter read it. ‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘that should do very well.’

  Richter passed it back to him. Modin signed the page, then placed the letter in an envelope, which he sealed. He referred to a small black book, then wrote an address on the front of the envelope, added ‘By Hand’ underneath it, and handed it over. ‘I don’t like unfinished business, Mr Beatty. Good luck.’

  Richter put the envelope in his pocket, and as he rose to leave he heard the sound of an approaching helicopter. ‘That will probably be the Minister now, General,’ Richter said. ‘Please stay here while I talk to my colleagues.’

  The Walnut Room, the Kremlin, Krasnaya ploshchad, Moscow

  When Sokolov completed his detailed explanation of Operation Podstava, there was an appalled silence in the room. The Russian President passed a weary hand over his brow and looked down the table at the SVR general. ‘You may be interested to learn, General, that America will be increasing its military alert state from DEFCON THREE to DEFCON TWO any time now, and to DEFCON ONE in—’ he glanced up at the wall clock ‘—just under four hours. I have also been told that the entire American strategic bomber force will be airborne and on station, fully armed and with support tankers and fighter escorts, no later than twenty-three hundred Moscow time today.’ He paused. ‘The bombers, of course, are only a part of the American response to this operation that Minister Trushenko decided to instigate. I don’t even want to think about the silo-based ballistic missiles or those in their nuclear submarines which are no doubt already in position.’

  Sokolov had turned pale, and was sitting down again. ‘Well, General,’ Baratov said, ‘you obviously know far more about Operation Podstava than anyone else in this room. What do you suggest we do about this situation?’

  Sokolov shook his head. How had the Americans found out? He roused himself. ‘Operation Podstava, Comrade Baratov,’ he replied, ‘was specifically designed to eliminate America from any future conflict. I can only assume that the warning to them has not yet been delivered, because the plan called for Minister Trushenko to contact the Americans only after placement of the last weapon in London. Once the ultimatum has been delivered, I am confident that the Americans will stand down their forces.’

  There was another prolonged silence, then Baratov spoke again. ‘You may be confident, General, but I am not. Nor are any of us. I do not believe that America will stand its forces down. I think – we all think – that the American President will do exactly what he has threatened, and will not just tamely surrender as Minister Trushenko apparently expects.’

  ‘So, General,’ Anatoli Lomonosov spoke for the first time, ‘we have to stop this ill-conceived operation, and stop it right now.’

  Sokolov shook his head helplessly. ‘I don’t think,’ he said slowly, ‘that we can.’

  Oval Office, White House, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, D.C.

  ‘I still think it’s a mistake,’ the Vice-President said, standing obstinately in front of the desk.

  The President passed a hand wearily over his face. ‘I don’t care what you think, John. I’m not prepared to take any chances. The two National Command Authorities are myself and the Secretary of Defense. By sending you up in one of the Nightwatch planes I’m creating a reserve Commander-in-Chief and an additional NCA. I hope it’s just a precaution,’ he added.

  John Mitchell looked levelly at him. ‘And where will you be? And where are you sending the Secretary of Defense, for that matter?’

  ‘I’m staying here,’ the President said, and held up a hand to forestall the protest he could see forming in Mitchell’s mind. ‘I’m staying here in case Karasin or the Kremlin come up trumps.’ He paused and glanced at his watch. ‘The Secretary of Defense will be leaving from the Pentagon for SITE R in about three hours. That will give you adequate time to get established aboard the Nightwatch aircraft.’

  John Mitchell shook his head. ‘Very well, Mr President. If that’s the way you want it.’ He extended his hand across the desk, and the President shook it. ‘I still think you’re wrong,’ Mitchell said.

  ‘I hope I am, John. More than anything I’ve ever wished for, I really hope I’m wrong.’

  Twenty minutes later, the white-topped Marine Corps helicopter from the Quantico base – about thirty miles from the White House – settled gently on to the grass of the White House lawn. The pilot signalled to the group of men standing some fifty metres away, and they walked briskly towards the aircraft.

  When the cabin crew reported that all the passengers were properly strapped in, the pilot pulled up on the collective and the big Sikorsky climbed into the afternoon sky. Once airborne and well clear of the buildings, the pilot swung the helicopter south for the flight to Andrews Air Force base, twenty miles and eleven minutes away, where the Nightwatch Boeing 747 waited. Unofficially known as the ‘Doomsday Plane’ or ‘Kneecap’, an acronym derived from the aircraft’s official designation of National Emergency Airborne Command Post, the Nightwatch 747 provides an awesome array of communications facilities.

  From the aircraft, which can stay airborne for as long as seventy-two hours with in-flight refuelling, the National Command Authority can directly control virtually all of America’s armed might. The Nightwatch plane carries a battle staff capable of duplicating all the Presidential codes for nuclear weapon release, and copies of all the procedures and operational plans to conduct a nuclear exchange.

  The President or Vice-President is also able to communicate with the Strategic Air Command’s airborne command post, originally called Looking Glass, but today code-named Cover All. One Cover All aircraft is airborne at all times, commanded by a SAC general, and has the ability to launch the entire Minuteman missile force. In times of crisis, at least another two Cover All aircraft are scrambled.

  The Vice-President looked back briefly towards the White House, wondering if he would see it or the President again, then turned his mind to the task in hand.

  Autoroute A26, vicinity of Couvron-et-Aumencourt

  Twenty minutes later the helicopter lifted off again, the Minister having peered approvingly at the Russian prisoners and with displeasure into the back of the lorry. Richter had told Lacomte that he thought they should just release the Russians and pretend nothing had happened. After a moment he agreed, and so did the Minister once Lacomte had explained the reasons to him.

  Monsieur Giraud, who had remained a respectful one pace behind the Minister throughout his visit, had one additional suggestion. ‘We will take photographs,’ he said, ‘of the weapon in the back of the lorry, and pictures of all the Russians who accompanied it. Still pictures and videos, so that there can be no possible doubt about the crime.’

  While Lacomte organized a DST photographic unit, Richter returned to the Transit. ‘Good news,’ he said to Modin. ‘The Minister has approved your release.’ He explained about the photographs that would be taken, and Modin smiled.

  As Richter stood up to leave, Modin spoke again. ‘Mr Beatty,’ he said, ‘there are three other things we should discuss.’

  Richter sat down. ‘Yes?’ he replied

  The Russian seemed lost in thought for a second, then he looked over at the Englishman. ‘There will be a delay while we wait for the photographers, and we are still waiting for the new tyres for our vehicles, but I would imagine we will be allowed to leave here in about three or four hours. Would that be a reasonable estimate?’

  ‘Yes, probably,’ Richter said. He couldn’t see where the Russian was heading.

  ‘So, we can probably expect to reach Calais no later than, say, about two o’clock tomorrow morning?’ Richter nodded. ‘The Calais to Dover ferries run all night, so we will probably reach London by a
bout five or six tomorrow morning. In view of what I am about to tell you, you may wish to delay our release from here, although you obviously cannot hold us indefinitely. Our London Embassy is expecting us no later than tomorrow midday, which is the estimate I passed to them when we finally got out of Strasbourg.’ A thought struck him, and he smiled slightly. ‘I should have guessed then. The roadworks were a delaying tactic – a device to hold us up while you organized this?’ He waved a hand at the people outside.

  ‘Not my idea,’ Richter replied, ‘but the DST thought it was worth doing.’

  ‘It was, and it was well done.’ Modin’s smile vanished, and he leant forward. ‘You must realize,’ he said, ‘that I am a patriot, not a traitor. I have provided you with information about this matter only because I believe the plan to be ill-conceived and, as I have already said, I actually want it to fail.’ Modin stopped, apparently trying to come to a decision. He opened his briefcase again, tore a scrap of paper from a notebook and scribbled on it. Then he handed the scrap to Richter; on it was a single Russian word – Krutaya.

  ‘What’s this?’ Richter asked.

  ‘That,’ Modin said, ‘is all I can do for you, Mr Beatty, without placing my own life in even more danger than it is already. You will need to work out for yourself why that word is important. But,’ he leaned forward again, ‘you will need to act quickly, and you will need to work with the Americans. Remember, you must work with the Americans.’

  Richter looked at him, and tucked the scrap of paper into his wallet. ‘This word is to do with Operation Podstava, I assume?’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ Modin replied. ‘It is central to it, but that is all I will say. I have not, and I will not, tell you anything that I believe would harm Russian interests.’

  ‘General,’ Richter said quietly, ‘I haven’t asked you about anything else.’

  ‘I know, and I thank you. When we reach London, we will proceed immediately to the Embassy, and I will have to compose a priority message to Minister Trushenko advising him of the seizure of the London weapon and the discovery of the plot. I will have no choice in this matter – that is my duty, and I will have to obey.’ Richter nodded, and Modin looked over at him. ‘You disabled the mobile telephone cells in this area?’ he asked.