Blackmail

by Rick Campbell

  “Probably about a minute.”

  “What’s the impact if Russia destroys these pipelines?”

  Kevin Hardison, who had pulled the requisite data, replied, “Every major oil and natural gas pipeline in the Middle East and Western Europe has been wired with explosives. Russia has also wired our Trans-Alaska Pipeline System, mostly on principle rather than for impact, since taking out the Alaskan oil pipeline would cut off only fifteen percent of our oil supply. It’d put a dent in our flow of natural resources, but it wouldn’t be catastrophic.

  “Western Europe, on the other hand, is in a different situation. Overall, Europe gets thirty-three percent of its oil and almost forty percent of its natural gas from Russia, and many countries are critically dependent. Four countries receive one hundred percent of their natural gas from Russia: Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, and Finland; Bulgaria and Hungary receive eighty to ninety percent; and Austria, Poland, Turkey, the Czech Republic, and Greece are sixty percent dependent. Germany receives forty percent, and Italy—thirty percent. And that’s just what Russia can turn off.

  “If Russia destroys the oil and natural gas pipelines and blockades the Persian Gulf, Western Europe will receive almost no oil or natural gas. Kalinin didn’t deliver an empty threat; the Western European economies would crumble, and do so much faster than we could harm Russia with economic sanctions.”

  The president absorbed the somber information, then asked, “What if we prevent a Persian Gulf blockade, but Kalinin destroys the pipelines?”

  Hardison answered, “We can’t withstand either one.”

  “Got it,” the president said. “McVeigh is working the Persian Gulf issue. What are our options regarding the pipelines?”

  “We have none at the moment,” Hardison answered. “There’s no way to override these detonators.”

  “Every explosive device has a built-in safety,” the president replied. “There must be a way to deactivate these detonators. Any ideas?” he asked, canvassing the four men and women at the table.

  “Ask the designer,” Christine replied.

  “What?” Hardison said. “Just knock on his door and ask him for the master override code?”

  “Something like that.” Christine smiled.

  “That…,” the president said, “isn’t a bad idea.” To McVeigh he said, “Find out who designed these detonators, and arrange a—conversation.”

  44

  MOSCOW

  In the Operations Center three levels beneath the Moscow Senate, five rows of military personnel, seated at their consoles, snapped to attention as Russia’s president entered. Minister of Defense Chernov and Foreign Minister Lavrov followed Kalinin into a conference room in the back, where General Andropov and his aides rose to their feet and waited as Kalinin took his seat at the head of the table. After everyone settled into their chairs, one of Andropov’s aides manipulated a remote control, and the opaque panoramic window on the wall opposite President Kalinin turned transparent, enabling a clear view of the Operations Center displays.

  General Andropov began the brief. “All military objectives have been achieved, Mr. President. The corridor connecting Kaliningrad Oblast to Belarus has been secured, and all units are preparing defensive positions. In Ukraine, the operation could not have been more successful. Our airborne units hold all bridges across the Dnieper River, cutting off eastern Ukraine from NATO reinforcements. All Ukrainian ground combat units are encircled, and we have halted offensive operations for the time being, negotiating a surrender of all Ukrainian units.

  “Regarding the Navy’s objective, the Northern and Pacific Fleets, along with all attack submarines from the Baltic and Black Sea Fleets, have taken station in the Gulf of Oman, ready to implement a blockade of the Persian Gulf if directed. As far as NATO’s response goes, an American carrier strike group has moved into the Indian Ocean, shadowing the arrival of our Pacific Fleet, and a second strike group is being sent to the gulf, pulled from China’s coast. The remaining two operational American carriers have departed the West Coast of the United States. Aside from America’s carrier strike groups, NATO appears paralyzed. Although all NATO military units in Europe and North America are mobilizing, none have been deployed.”

  “Thank you, General,” Kalinin said. Turning to Foreign Minister Lavrov, he asked, “Where do we stand politically?”

  “As expected, Lithuania submitted a proposal authorizing the use of NATO military force to expel Russian troops from Lithuania. Additionally, the United States submitted a proposal to assist Ukraine. A vote on both proposals was postponed after your videoconference with NATO, as the member countries digest the economic disaster they’ll endure if they respond either militarily or with sanctions.”

  “The United States has four carrier strike groups under way,” Kalinin said. “What if they challenge our Persian Gulf blockade? Where do we stand with India and China?”

  “Neither country has formally responded,” Lavrov replied. “It appears both countries are keeping their options open, and won’t accept or decline unless the situation forces them to.”

  “I understand,” Kalinin said. He asked Defense Minister Chernov, “How do things look regarding the oil and natural gas pipelines?”

  “The United States checked the locations we provided them, so we are certain they understand we aren’t bluffing. We have been monitoring via satellite, and there has been no further activity at those or any of the other locations we’ve attached explosives.”

  Chernov finished with, “Everything is proceeding according to plan.”

  45

  WASHINGTON, D.C.

  Two days after their last meeting in the Situation Room, the president was joined again by Christine, Hardison, and Colonel DuBose, along with McVeigh and Dawn. This time they were accompanied by CIA Director Jessica Cherry, whose services had been called upon to locate the engineer who had designed the Russian detonators. During the previous forty-eight hours, the news from Europe and the Western Pacific had been universally bad, and McVeigh was bringing the president up to speed.

  The Ukrainian units in eastern Ukraine, which essentially amounted to Ukraine’s entire ground forces, had surrendered. Regarding Russia’s potential blockade, the Pentagon was developing an engagement plan for the Russian Navy in the Gulf of Oman, but the two-to-one submarine disadvantage was proving to be a difficult nut to crack. At the conclusion of McVeigh’s brief, the president turned to Dawn, who delivered her update.

  “On the diplomatic front, we’ve engaged India and China, requesting a meeting with each country’s foreign minister. India has agreed, and I have a meeting in New Delhi tomorrow, but China continues to give us the silent treatment. Russia has also been busy in the diplomatic arena, inviting Lithuanian representatives to Moscow to negotiate new territorial boundaries. However, President Grybauskaitė is giving Kalinin the Heisman for the time being.”

  The president smiled at Dawn’s use of the football metaphor—comparing Grybauskaitė’s response to the Heisman football trophy pose—a stiff arm to the face.

  Dawn continued, “Russia also invited Ukraine to Moscow to discuss their security operation. Moscow is doing its best to portray their dual invasions as just another day at the office; no big deal. They’re incredibly brash—they’ve even proposed a continental security summit with all NATO countries, no doubt to solidify their gains in Lithuania and Ukraine, and permanently put to bed the prospect of military or economic responses.”

  The president replied, “This could work in our favor. Keep the lines of communication with Moscow open. Give the indication that we’re open to a diplomatic solution, that we’ve concluded our hands are tied. Also, delay the NATO vote on the Lithuania and Ukraine resolutions. We need time to eliminate Russia’s stranglehold on Europe’s natural resources. Speaking of that, where do we stand with the pipeline sabotage?”

  CIA Director Jessica Cherry answered, “We’ve identified the detonator designer. He’s Anton Fedorov, one of Russia’s top ex
plosive engineers, working at a facility in Velikiy Novgorod, west of Moscow. He lives in a villa on the outskirts of town, where he’s picked up each morning and driven to the facility, then returned home each night. We’ve collected limited intel thus far, but we were able to review the last thirty days of satellite images. He appears to be a homebody; he hasn’t ventured outside his villa in the last month. Not that it matters, because that’s where we’re going to visit him.

  “Regarding that visit, we’re preparing a joint CIA-military operation, utilizing a Delta Force unit specializing in hostage rescue. The operation isn’t particularly challenging, aside from transporting the Delta Force unit inside Russia. Fortunately, Velikiy Novgorod isn’t far from the Latvian border, which will enable a quick insertion and extraction. We’ve also arranged a suitable location for Fedorov’s interrogation. With your permission, Mr. President, we’ll proceed with the operation.”

  “You may proceed.”

  The meeting was about to wrap up when an aide to SecState Cabral entered the Situation Room, delivering her a handwritten message. After reading it, she looked up sharply.

  “Mr. President. I have an update on our outreach to China. They’ve agreed to a meeting, but there are two unusual terms. The first is that the meeting will be with the president of China and not his foreign minister.”

  There was a favorable response from everyone around the Situation Room table. There was no smile from Dawn, however, which was explained when she conveyed China’s additional condition. “The second stipulation is that the meeting will occur only if Christine O’Connor is the American representative.”

  There was silence in the room as all eyes turned to Christine, whose face paled at the news.

  “Absolutely not,” Hardison said. “The last time Christine was in China, she held a gun to President Xiang’s head, forcing him to guarantee her safe passage from China. That was a onetime deal, not a permanent travel visa.”

  “China is critical,” McVeigh replied. “They have the second-largest surface navy. If they join forces with Russia, it’s over for us. We can’t defeat both at our current strength.”

  “What if we pull India to our side?” Dawn asked. “Could that offset China?”

  “I’ll go,” Christine said.

  The discussions continued in the Situation Room, with Christine’s response unheard.

  “I’ll go.”

  Conversation ceased as all eyes shifted to Christine again.

  The president replied, “I’m not sure that’s a wise decision. As Hardison pointed out, President Xiang promised you one safe trip out of the country, not two.”

  “We need to engage China. If this is the only way they’ll meet with us, I’m willing to go.”

  Dawn turned to her. “It’s obvious why they requested you. It’s too risky.”

  “It’s my decision,” Christine replied. Turning to the president to request his approval, she said, “It should be my decision.”

  The president leaned back in his chair, contemplating Christine’s assertion. After what happened in China, Christine had been skittish when things deteriorated in Moscow. Now, she was willing to walk into the lion’s den. A private discussion with her would be necessary, but for now, he needed to address her assertion. He replied, “You’re correct. It’s your decision.”

  He turned to Hardison. “Replace Christine’s Diplomatic Security Service protection with Secret Service for this trip. We’ll lose control once Christine enters the Great Hall of the People, but I at least want my best people with her.”

  To Dawn, the president said, “Set up the meeting with President Xiang.”

  46

  NEW DELHI, INDIA

  Secretary of State Dawn Cabral’s sedan pulled to a halt in front of Rashtrapati Bhavan, India’s presidential mansion and the largest residence for a head of state in the world. Stepping from the cool sedan into the blistering Indian heat, already surpassing one hundred degrees Fahrenheit, she paused to examine the grandeur of the four-story palace, constructed at the beginning of the twentieth century for the British viceroy of India. From a distance, the 180-foot-tall copper dome in the center of the palace, inspired by the Pantheon of Rome, seemed to float above the haze of the New Delhi summer heat.

  Dawn was greeted by an Indian external affairs aide, who escorted her up the broad, alabaster steps into Durbar Hall. In the center of the hall, surrounded by columns of yellow marble supporting the dome’s perimeter, India’s minister of external affairs, Rahul Gupta, was conversing with several men and women, wisely awaiting Dawn’s arrival within the cool confines of the residential palace. Gupta moved across the marble floor to greet his American counterpart, then escorted her to a conference room in the northeast corner of the hall.

  The doors to the conference room closed, sealing Dawn and Gupta inside for the private meeting she’d requested. No interpreters would be required; Gupta was fluent in English.

  “Please be seated,” Gupta said, motioning to a chair at the corner of the twenty-person conference room table. Dawn placed a thin leather satchel on the table as she took her seat, and Gupta slid into a chair at the head of the table. Gupta waited for Dawn to begin.

  “Thank you for your time, Minister. I suppose you’ve deduced the reason for this meeting?”

  “We have an idea or two,” Gupta replied, failing to elaborate.

  “We know your president met with Russia’s defense minister and that Russia asked you to join forces with them in the Indian Ocean.” The last part was a lie—she didn’t know what had been discussed, but she was confident her assertion was correct. She continued, “I offer you a counterproposal. Join forces with the United States and help us defeat the Russian Navy.”

  Gupta remained silent.

  “We can provide attractive incentives: price discounts on American military hardware, and we’ll relax the restrictions on our most sensitive equipment. You’ll benefit greatly from our alliance; your military will become more formidable.”

  “Only if we choose the winning side, and there is something left of our Navy.”

  Dawn tucked away Gupta’s response; he admitted Russia had made a similar proposal. Dawn pulled a document from her briefcase and slid it across the table. “These are the benefits you will receive in return for your assistance.”

  Gupta flipped through the document, skimming its contents. He looked up and said, “We will consider your proposal.”

  “There’s a right and wrong side of this conflict,” Dawn added. “Russia invaded two sovereign countries and is threatening to impede international maritime traffic.”

  “History is littered with the bodies of the righteous.”

  “Join us,” Dawn replied, “and we will defeat the Russian Navy.”

  “I will bring your request to President Madan. Of course, he’ll need to discuss this with his National Security Council.”

  “Do you have a rough time frame?”

  “I cannot say. That will be up to President Madan.”

  “I understand,” Dawn said. “Thank you for your consideration.”

  * * *

  Not long after the American secretary of state departed, Indian Minister of Defense Ankur Kumar joined Gupta in the conference room. “What did she want?” he asked.

  After Gupta explained, Kumar asked, “What did you tell her?”

  “I was noncommittal, as directed by President Madan.”

  “If America engages the Russian Navy, our hand will be forced. A side must be chosen.”

  “Not necessarily,” Gupta replied. “We can remain neutral.”

  “We can remain neutral and alienate both Russia and the United States, not to mention leaving their incentives on the table. Or we can choose a side and gain a strong ally.”

  “We must choose wisely,” Gupta said.

  Kumar nodded his agreement.

  47

  BEIJING, CHINA

  It was almost dark by the time the C-32 descended toward Beijing Nanyuan Airpor
t. Like Secretary Cabral, Christine carried a thin leather briefcase containing the details of America’s proposal. As the C-32 banked to the left, providing a view of Beijing stretching into the distance, she wondered how Dawn had fared in India. Dawn’s task was somewhat easier, though, as there was no threat to her life.

  Before Christine departed Washington, D.C., the president had pulled her into the Oval Office for a private conversation, questioning her reasoning for agreeing to China’s request. It had taken her a moment to open up, but she had explained how she’d been running away from what she’d done in Beijing and Ice Station Nautilus. Sooner or later, she would have to face her demons, and now was as good a time as any. Her answer seemed to satisfy the president, and she would soon face President Xiang.

  The C-32 touched down and after coasting to a halt, Christine and the four Secret Service agents detailed to her exited the aircraft. On the tarmac, members of the Secret Service advance party were waiting, along with Katrina Wetzel, America’s ambassador to China.

  As Christine descended the staircase, she spotted Ambassador Wetzel standing near a black sedan. Two additional black sedans served as bookends to the three-car motorcade that would take her to the Great Hall of the People. There, her security would become seriously diminished; her Secret Service escort would have to leave their weapons behind at the security checkpoint before entering the Politburo section of the Great Hall.

  Ambassador Wetzel greeted Christine as she stepped onto the tarmac. “Welcome to China, Miss O’Connor.” Before Christine could reply, Wetzel added, “There’s been a change of plans. You’re not going to the Great Hall of the People.” She nodded toward a helicopter not far away, in front of which stood three men in black suits, who Christine figured were Cadre Department bodyguards—the Chinese equivalent of the Secret Service.

  “Where is the meeting?”

  “They won’t say.”

  Ambassador Wetzel led Christine and the four Secret Service agents toward the helicopter. When they reached the Cadre Department bodyguards, one stepped forward.