"Sure we do," said Lincoln. "Just not in public. We have no choice but to deal with this man."
"What about the next Tojo wannabe with a bomb?" Burkow asked. "What if Saddam does it next? Or some neo-Nazi right here in the States?"
"We don't let it happen again," said CIA Director Rachlin. "We learn from this. We prepare. Right now, we don't want another New York. Defuse the bomb, nail the peckers later,"
"But it could be a bluff," said Burkow. "He may he a nutcase who blew his wad under the East River."
"Mr. President," said Rodgers, "let the bastard have this one. I know a little something about these Grozny fanatics. They don't bluff, and you see how hard they strike. Give them the win and we'll catch them with an end run."
"You have an idea?"
"I do," he said.
"At least that's something," the President said.
"Right now, a spitball in a slingshot would be something," Burkow said. "But is it the right something?"
Lawrence rubbed his face with his open hands while Burkow scowled at Rodgers. The National Security Chief was not big on capitulation, and he obviously had thought he'd an ally in Rodgers. Ordinarily, he would have. But this was much bigger than what was happening here, and they needed time and clearer heads to deal with it.
"Sorry, Steve," said the President. "I agree with you in principle. God, how I do. But I've got to give this monster what he wants. Put him back on the line."
With a jab of his finger, Burkow unmuted the telephone.
"Are you there?" the President asked.
"I am."
"If we accept your terms, there will be no blast?"
"Only if you do so at once," said Ekdol. "You have less than a minute."
"Then we agree," said the President. -Damn you, we agree."
"Very well," said Ekdol.
The phone was silent for a moment.
"Where are the explosives?" Burkow asked.
"They are in the back of just another truck crossing just another bridge," said Ekdol. "I just phoned the driver not to deliver them. Now, as I promised, you can come and get me. I'll say nothing of our agreement. But go back on your word, Mr. President, and you will be unable to stop my people in other cities and towns. Do you understand?"
"I understand," said the President.
And then the line went dead.
FOURTEEN
Monday, 6:45 A.M., St. Petersburg
Orlov touched the button on the speaker outside Rossky's door.
"Yes?" said the Colonel in a strident voice.
"Colonel, it's General Orlov."
The door buzzed and Orlov entered. Rossky sat behind a small desk to the left. There were a computer, telephone, coffee mug, fax machine, and flag on its gunmetal surface. To the right was the cluttered desk of his assistant and secretary, Corporal Valentina Belyev. Both of them stood and saluted when the General entered, Belyev smartly, Rossky more slowly.
Orlov returned the salute and asked Valentina to excuse them. When the door clicked shut Orlov regarded the Colonel.
"Has anything happened in the last day that I should know about?" Orlov asked.
Rossky sat slowly. "A great deal has happened. As to whether you should know-General, our nation's satellites, field agents, cryptography, and radio surveillance all become our responsibility later today. You have a lot to attend to."
"I'm a general," Orlov said. "My subordinates do all the work. What I'm asking, Colonel, is whether you've been doing more work than you should."
"Specifically what, sir?"
"What business had you with the coroner?" Orlov asked.
"We had a body to dispose of," Rossky said. "A British agent. Brave fellow-we'd been watching him for days. He took his life when our operative closed in."
"When was this?" Orlov asked.
"Yesterday."
"Why didn't you log it?"
"I did," Rossky said. "With Minister Dogin."
Orlov's features darkened. "All reports are supposed to go to the computer file with a copy to my office-"
"That's true, sir," Rossky said, "in an operational facility. But we are not that yet. We won't be securing the link from your office to the Minister's desk for another four hours. Mine has been checked and secured, and I used it."
"And the link from your office to mine?" Orlov demanded. "Is that secure?"
"You did not receive a report?"
"You know I didn't-"
"An oversight," Rossky smiled. "I'll discipline Corporal Belyev. You'll have a full report-if I may call Belyev back-in just a few minutes."
Orlov regarded the Colonel for a long moment. "You joined the Society for Cooperation with Army, Air Force, and Fleet when you were just fourteen, didn't you?" Orlov asked.
"That's right," Rossky said.
"You were an expert sniper at sixteen, and while other young men chose to leap Devil's Ditch from a running jump with a track suit and running shoes, you elected to leap the spikes at the widest point with heavy boots and a rucksack on your back. Colonel General Odinstev personally trained you and a select group in the art of terrorism and assassination, As I recall, you once executed a spy in Afghanistan with a spade thrown from fifty meters away."
"It was fifty-two." Rossky's eyes shifted toward his superior. "A record for a kill in the spetsnaz."
Orlov came around the desk and sat on the edge. "You spent three years in Afghanistan, until a member of your group was wounded on a mission to capture an Afghan leader. Your platoon commander decided to take the wounded man with you rather than administer the Blessed Death. As assistant commander, you reminded your superior that it was his duty to order the lethal injection, and when he refused you killed the commander-a hand over his mouth, a knife thrust to the throat. Then you took the wounded man's life."
"Had I done otherwise," Rossky said, "high command would have ordered the entire group executed as traitors."
"Of course," Orlov said. "But there was an inquiry afterward, a question as to whether the soldier's wound was sufficient to require death."
"It was a leg wound," Rossky said, "and he was slowing us down. The regulations are quite specific on that count. The inquiry was merely a formality."
"Nonetheless," Orlov continued, "some of your men were not happy with what you'd done. Ambition, a desire for promotion-those were some of the charges they made, I believe. There was concern for your safety, so you were recalled and became part of the special faculty at the Military-Diplomatic Academy. You taught my son and got to know Minister Dogin when he was still the Mayor of Moscow. Is that all correct?"
"Yes, sir."
Orlov moved even closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "You've served your country and the military vigorously for just over twenty years, risked your life and reputation. With all of this experience, Colonel, tell me: didn't you learn not to sit down in the presence of a superior officer unless given leave to do so?"
Rossky's face flushed. He rose at once, slowly, his posture rigid. "Yes, sir."
Orlov remained seated on the desk. "My career has been different than yours, Colonel. My father saw firsthand what the Luftwaffe did to the Red Army during the War. He passed his respect for airpower to me. I spent eight years in the Air Defense Forces, flying reconnaissance for four years, then helping to train other pilots in ambushes-drawing enemy aircraft into killing grounds of antiaircraft fire." Orlov stood and looked into Rossky's angry eyes. "Did you know all of this, Colonel? Did you study my dossier?"
"I did, sir."
"Then you know I've never had to formally discipline any of my subordinates. Most men are decent, even the conscripts. They only want to do their jobs and he rewarded for the work they do. Some make honest mistakes, and there's no reason to spoil their records because of that. I will always give a soldier, a patriot, the benefit of the doubt. Including you, Colonel." Orlov came closer until their faces were inches apart. "But if you try and go around me again," he said, "I'll catch you and have you returned to the
academy-with a notation of insubordination on your record. Are we clear on that, Colonel?"
"We are-sir," Rossky said, nearly spitting out the word.
"Good."
The men exchanged salutes as the General turned and headed toward the door.
"Sir?" Rossky said.
Orlov looked back. The Colonel was still standing at attention. "Yes?" Orlov asked.
"What your son did in Moscow-was that an honest mistake?"
"It was stupid and irresponsible," Orlov said. "You and the Minister were more than fair with him."
"It was out of respect for your accomplishments that we were, sir," Rossky said. "And he has a great career ahead of him. Did you ever read the file on the incident?"
Orlov's eyes narrowed. "I've never had any interest in it, no. "
"I have a copy," Rossky said. "It was removed from the records in general staff headquarters. There was a recommendation attached to it. Did you know that?"
Orlov said nothing.
"Nikita's company Senior Sergeant recommended expulsion for guliganstvo. Not for defacing the Greek Orthodox church on Ulitsa Arkhipova or beating up the priest, but for breaking into the academy supply depot to get the paint, and for striking the guard when he tried to stop him." Rossky smiled. "I think your boy was frustrated after my lecture about how the Greek armed forces sold weapons to Afghanistan."
"What's your point?" Orlov asked. "That you were able to teach Nikita to attack helpless citizens?"
"Civilians are the soft underbelly of the same machine that runs the military, sir," Rossky said, "a perfectly valid target in the eyes of the spetsnaz. But you don't want to debate established military policy with me.
"I don't care to debate anything with you, Colonel," Orlov said. "We have an operations center to launch." He started toward the door, but Rossky's voice stopped him.
"Of course, sir. However, since you've asked to be kept aware of everything pertaining to my official activities, I will log the details of this conversation-which now include the following. The charges against your son were not dismissed. The Senior Sergeant's report was simply not acted upon, which isn't the same thing. If it were ever called to the attention of the personnel directorate, it would have to be acted upon."
Orlov had his hand on the doorknob, his back to the Colonel. "My son will have to bear the consequences of his own deeds, though I'm certain a military judge would take into account his intervening years of service, as well as the way in which the records were suppressed and then released."
"Files sometimes show up on desks, sir."
Orlov opened the door. Corporal Belyev was standing there and saluted smartly. "Your impertinence will be noted in my own log, Colonel," Orlov said. He looked from Belyev to Rossky. "Would you care to add to the entry?"
Rossky stood stiffly beside his desk. "No, sir. Not at present, sir. "
General Orlov walked into the hall and Belyev entered the Colonel's office. She shut the door behind her, and the General could only imagine what was taking place behind the soundproof door.
Not that it mattered. Rossky had been put on notice and would have to follow the rules to the letter ... though Orlov had a feeling that rules might begin to change once the Colonel got Interior Minister Dogin on the phone.
FIFTEEN
Sunday, 10:15 P.M.,Washington, D.C.
Griff Egenes returned to the Oval Office.
"State troopers are on the way to Forest Road," he said, "and one of my teams is choppering in from New York. They'll have this lunatic before the half hour."
"He won't fight them," said Burkow.
Egenes sat heavily. "What do you mean'?"
"I mean, we've given him what he wants. He'll spout some radical crap and let himself be taken."
"Shit," said Egenes. "I really wanted to squeeze him."
"Me too," said Burkow.
The National Security Chief turned to Mike Rodgers. Though the mood in the Oval Office was grim, Burkow owned the gravest face of the group.
"So, Mike?" Burkow asked. "Who are these creatures and how do we squash the rest of them?"
"Before you answer," said the President, "can someone tell me if the Russians have anything going militarily that can snowball into an invasion? Aren't we supposed to watch for these things?"
Mel Parker, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the administration's silent man, said, "While Ekdol was busy dictating terms of unconditional surrender, I rang Defense Secretary Colon. He called the Pentagon. I'm told that several Russian divisions are on maneuvers right at the Ukrainian border. Pretty big numbers compared to what they usually do in the region, but nothing that would have sent up a warning signal."
"No troop movements anywhere else?" Rodgers asked.
"NRO is putting all their resources into finding out," Parker replied.
"But the border could be a staging area," the President said.
"It could very well be," said Parker.
"There's the goddamn problem," said FBI chief Egenes. "All this downsizing. We have too few HUMINT resources. A satellite can't tell us about foot soldiers bitching about tomorrow's march or what it says on a map inside a field tent. That's where the real intelligence is. "
"That's a problem," Rodgers agreed, "but it has very little to do with this situation."
"How so?" asked Rachlin.
"The truth is," said Rodgers, "this Groznyite didn't buy himself a thing."
"What do you mean?" asked Tobey, who had been silent as she took notes for Burkow.
"Assume there's an invasion," Rodgers said, "say Russia goes into the Ukraine. We wouldn't intervene."
"Why not?" she asked.
"Because then we'd be at war with Russia," Rodgers said, "and what do we do next? We don't have the capacity to wage an effective conventional war. We proved that in Haiti and Somalia. If we tried, casualties would be heavy and they'd be all over TV. The public and Congress would shut us down faster than a crap game in church. And we can't go in with missiles, bombers, and big-scale attacks because of the collateral damage and civilian casualties."
"I'm crying big, fat, Betty Boop tears," Burkow said. "It's a war. People are going to get hurt. And if I'm not mistaken, the Russians fired the first salvo against a bunch of civilians in New York City."
"We don't know that the Russian government authorized that," Egenes pointed out.
"Exactly," said Secretary Lincoln. "And frankly, as unpopular as this might be, I'm not sure I'd want to see us fight a war for Eastern Europe, even a just one. Germany and France wouldn't join us. They might not even support us. NATO could conceivably turn on us. The expense of repelling Russia and rebuilding those nations after a war would be horrendous."
"No," Burkow said with an edge of disgust. "Better to build another Maginot Line to keep the enemy out, like the Three Little Pigs and their house of straw. I don't buy that. I believe you go to the den of the Big Bad Wolf, napalm the bejesus out of him, and make a coat from what's left. I know that isn't the politically, sensitive thing to do, but we're not the ones who started this."
"Tell me," Lincoln asked Rodgers :did the Japanese send you a box of chocolates and a thank-you note when you stopped Tokyo from being evaporated by those North Korean nodong missiles?"
"I didn't do it for a Pat on the back," said Rodgers. "I did it because it was right."
"And we were all very proud of you," Lincoln said. "But I still count two Americans dead versus zero Japanese.
The President said, "I'm in Mel's camp on this one, but we're losing sight of our immediate problem: who's behind this and why." He looked at his watch. "I'm scheduled to go on the air at ten past eleven to talk about the bombing. Tobey, will you have the speech updated to talk about the capture of the bomber thanks to the fast work of the FBI, CIA, and others?"
The National Security Assistant nodded and walked to the nearest phone.
The President regarded Rodgers. "General, is this why you advised me to capitulate to the bomber? B
ecause we were going to do what he wanted anyway?"
"No, sir," said Rodgers. "The truth is, we didn't capitulate to him. We distracted him."
Lawrence leaned back, his hands behind his head. "From what?"
"Our counterattack," Rodgers said.
"Against whom?" Burkow asked. "The prick told us who he was with and turned himself in."
"But follow the thread backward," Rodgers said.
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