FOREWORD
Page 48
However, should you choose to proceed with your aggressive actions, I will be left with no choice but to retaliate massively. For the sake of both our countries, and indeed the world, I implore you to begin a phased reduction of your alert levels. Should you agree to this, I can guarantee that my forces will reciprocate.
“Jesus,” Bishop muttered under his breath. “That is one scared son-of-a-bitch.”
“Good,” Nielsen noted. “That means he knows we’re serious.”
Westwood rounded on the President. His natural talent for controlling his anger no longer felt quite so natural. He was having to force himself to remain calm. “You think that a scared leader in a nuclear crisis is a good thing, sir? Just consider that for a moment. If he thinks for just one second that we intend to go all the way with this thing, he’ll hit us with everything he’s got.”
“He wants to strike a deal,” Copeland added. “He’s turning a whole bomber squadron. They need those bombers more than we do. Take the deal, sir. Let’s call this thing off.” Please, he almost added.
Nielsen leaned against a steel bulkhead and pinched the bridge of his nose, a frustrated grimace flickering across his aristocratic features. He felt like he was the only person in the entire government prepared to carry out the will of the American people. Yes, prosecution of a nuclear war would result in a horrendous number of deaths, but sacrifices had always been necessary for the greater good. Previous generations had understood that basic truth far better than the present one, he thought bleakly. Unfortunately, most people in the modern era had grown up in an world where wars were merely abstract forms of entertainment to be played out on GCN with the same deference one might afford a video game. Bang Bang, you’re dead! Dead because I pressed a button faster than you.
Nielsen understood that the real world wasn’t like that. War wasn’t a video game. People died in war, and sometimes - sadly - those people just happened to be civilians. His grandfather had been one of the World War Two bomber pilots involved in the firebombing of Dresden. Many people had died there too but, despite the efforts of revisionist historians to protest the futility of that operation, it was now generally accepted that the residents of Dresden had died to serve a greater good. The spine of Nazism had been broken by such sacrifices, morally objectionable as they may have been.
Up to thirty million Americans were dead or dying purely because a reckless Russian General had chosen to cross a line that no national leader had dared approach for over half a century. Now that same Russian General, while impelling America’s leaders to stand down its forces, had crossed that line again. In less than twenty-four hours, he had waged nuclear war on three separate nations. So therein lay the dilemma. In stopping him, Nielsen might well be responsible for the deaths of another twenty or thirty million innocent people. But if he didn’t stop him now, the madman currently in charge of Russia might go on to kill abillion . The American people would accept that the lesser sacrifice was not only preferable, butnecessary .
So there was no argument, was there?
He looked up at Admiral Dunster, whose reticence during the past two hours had not gone unnoticed.
“James, I’m going to ask you a question and I want a straight, honest answer. Can you give me that?”
Dunster noted the condescending edge to Nielsen’s tone. “Yes, sir, I can.”
“Good. Tell me, Admiral. How many of their boomers do you think we can take out?”
The Admiral didn’t have to give much thought to the question. The answer came automatically. He had been thinking of little else over the past several hours. “Their boomers tend to maintain a bastion defensive formation, so getting close enough to kill them without sustaining heavy losses on our own side won’t be easy. They have five Typhoons and seven Delta IVs on the Kola Peninsula, heavily protected by Akulas. The same goes for the eight Delta IIIs on the Kamchatka Peninsula.”
“What’s a bastion formation?” Copeland asked.
Dunster could see that Nielsen didn’t know either, but the commander-in-chief was evidently too proud to admit that. “It means that their boomers maintain positions in protected waters close to Russian shores. These areas are covered by maritime patrol aircraft, surface anti-sub vessels, sonar listening networks, plus a number of hunter-killer subs such as the Akulas. It makes it damn hard for anybody to get near them. That’s why bastion defense has been the primary tactical doctrine for Russian boomers since the days of the Soviet Union.”
Nielsen furrowed his brow in incredulity. “Are you saying that we’re not eventrying to take them out?”
“Not at all, sir,” the Admiral stated. “Our fast attack subs are already out there looking for them; standard operating procedures at DefCon One. When they find them, they’ll sink ‘em.”
“So how long will that be?”
Dunster shrugged. “Who knows? The Russian subs are operating under combat alert status. That means they’ll be ultra-silent until the time comes for them to launch their missiles. That won’t make it easy for our boys to locate them. If they can get past their bastion defenses in the first place, that is.”
“You said a moment ago that theywould find them. You saidwhen .”
“What I said, sir, is that when we find them, we’ll sink them. But I believe I qualified that remark. We’ve never been here before. Their sub commanders are well trained, among the best in the world. They’ll know that we’re hunting them, and they’ll know how to deal with that. Hell, sir, they’ve spent their entire lives training for this mission. To put it bluntly, sir, our best and possiblyonly shot at taking them out will be when they rise to launch depth.”
“It’ll be too late by then,” Bishop observed grimly.
“Not necessarily,” Dunster said. “You see, they’ll be resurfacing at some point for new orders. As soon as they come up, we’ll have a shot at picking them off. More than likely get a few of them. If they hear nothing from command authority while they’re up, they’ll assume that command authority has been neutralized and begin launch preparations. They’ll go under and stay ultra-silent during that period. That takes, oh, about fifteen minutes. Then they’ll rise to launch depth. That’s our second shot at taking them out. I’m not saying that we’ll get them all. Some will inevitably get through. But we’ve got them pretty well outnumbered and outgunned. I would be confident of sinking at least a third of them before they launch. Our strategy for handling this is in the hands of CINCSUBLANT and CINCSUBPAC. They’re both good men. Smart men. And if I know them as well as I think, they’ll be ordering our fast attack subs to keep their heads down until the Russian boomers make themselves heard. There’s no point getting ourselves killed just yet.”
Nielsen performed a quick mental calculation. America still had enough fighters – mainly belonging to State air reserves – to cause serious damage to Russia’s incoming bomber fleet. But the same wasn’t true in reverse, given the dismal state of the Russian Air Force. With a bit of luck, the U.S. Navy might also stop a large number of Russia’s submarine fleet before it could launch. Also, the United States still had a significant number of ICBMs that hadn’t been destroyed by the Russian attack, while Russia’s ICBM arsenal was now almost totally depleted.
Yes, he concluded, this war was winnable.
“They’ve turned a squadron of bombers,” he observed quietly. “All of ours are still on course to hit their targets in Russia within the next few hours. I read that as a strategic advantage.” He looked up, reviewing every face around him as he spoke in a flat monotone. “Gentlemen, let me make myself quite clear. I, the President of the United States of America, intend to wage nuclear war against the Russian Federation until an acceptable outcome is achieved.”
The first person whose eyes he met was Westwood. The General looked beleaguered. The same look was reflected on the faces of Nielsen’s other advisors. They had finally accepted that there was to be no turning back. Their commander in chief would not be dissuaded from his chosen course of action.
A general sense of depression prevented further argument.
UNDERGROUND COMMAND POST, THE KREMLIN
General Yazov --- I await confirmation that you have indeed recalled a single bomber squadron. Unfortunately, I am unable to reciprocate your actions at this time. I am nevertheless hopeful that this gesture is indicative of a general cessation of all hostilities on your part. Until I receive confirmation that you have stood down your strategic forces in their entirety, I cannot recall our own bombers or submarines. When considering this, please take time to remember how this conflict began. You used nuclear weapons against the Ukraine. You then used nuclear weapons in an unprovoked attack against the United States. Now you have proceeded to use them once more against China. In that context, the American people will not tolerate anything less than total dismantling of your remaining nuclear arsenal. This can only begin once you have stood down your strategic forces to peacetime alert levels. Until then, we will consider that a state of war exists between our two countries.
I should also remind you that the United States of America has a distinct military advantage and can visit sufficient damage on your nation to ensure that it is rendered uninhabitable for a thousand years. I doubt that your forces are able to inflict similar damage on the United States. Accordingly, I am sure that you will come to see the futility on your part of pursuing this conflict any further. I hope you see sense before it is too late for Russia.
At this time, I have other business to attend to. We may speak again once you have reached a decision.
Yazov felt his legs go weak beneath him, almost as if the ground itself had suddenly become unstable. He closed his eyes, hoping that all of this was a bad dream from which he would soon awaken. But when he opened his eyes again, the foreboding message was still glowing on the monochrome screen. “He’s going to do it,” he murmured incredulously. “The mad bastard is really going to do it.”
Suronev shook his head in disbelief. During the short period when it had looked as though Grizov might seize power, the Foreign Minister had kept his distance from Yazov, particularly since the FSB Chief was an old friend and political ally of Suronev. But once it had become clear that Yazov had reasserted his authority, the wily politician in Suronev resurfaced. Ever since the moment when Yazov had authorized the missile launch against China, Suronev had not left his side. His friendship with Grizov was clearly no match for his political ambition.
“I thought you said you had a friend in their government. Stein, was it?”
The Russian leader pondered that. Lewis Stein was the National Security Advisor. His opinion would have been instrumental in Nielsen’s decision. From what Yazov knew of the new American commander-in-chief, he couldn’t even tie his shoelaces without explicit instructions on how to do so. I misread Stein, General Gennady Yazov realized with a start. He had always prided himself on being a good judge of character. That was one of the reasons he had survived and prospered in a notoriously corrupt system without ever having to compromise his principles. But clearly Stein had fooled him. Nielsen didn’t have the intelligence or guts to be a nuclear warmonger. Stein, however, had not only the guts but also the ability to teach his new master how.
Yazov turned and eyed Suronev coldly, his voice edged with a monotonic bass that chilled the Foreign Minister to the bone.
“I was wrong,” he said. “I have no friends in their government.”
“What are we going to do?” Kalushin said, the first signs of panic creeping into his voice.
“We are going to take the only option they have left open to us. We are going to issue proceed orders to our bombers. When our submarines resurface, we will issue the launch codes.” He sunk his head low and closed his eyes. “We are going to destroy everything.”
ABOARD KNEECAP
The mood on the E-4 had gone through several transitions in the past few hours, from fear to shock to anger and, finally, acquiescence. Much of that was due to general fatigue. There wasn’t a person aboard who had slept in the last twenty-four hours. And, as a crimson dawn peered over the eastern seaboard of the United States, the widespread, if unspoken, consensus was that Nielsen could not be diverted from his chosen course of action any more than he could be relieved of office. He had committed himself to waging nuclear war with the Russian Federation. Nobody had the will, the energy or indeed any idea how to stop him.
Following the last message to Yazov, Copeland, Bishop and Dunster had retired to their private quarters, certain that the emerging dawn would be the last they were likely to see. Nielsen hadn’t protested. He’d come to find their presence increasingly tiresome anyway. He was now alone in the conference room with Westwood and Reynolds.
His first task was to take a call from British Prime Minister Winterburn.
“I’m terribly sorry to hear about the President,” Winterburn intoned gravely, meaning it. “He’s a delightful chap. You will ensure that he and Margaret receive our best wishes, won’t you?”
“Of course,” Nielsen assured him, not meaning it. “Now, what can I do for you, Prime Minister?”
Winterburn proceeded to relate the contents of the electronic intercept of the conversation between the French and German leaders. Nielsen scribbled notes in shorthand while he listened silently, stopping only occasionally to grunt or to glance at Westwood, whose expression remained neutral throughout. The General was convinced that secondary conflicts such as that looming in Europe had been rendered insignificant by the devastation shortly to befall mankind.
“I’ve taken soundings from some of our closer allies in Europe,” Winterburn reported. “The Italians are outraged. I shan’t repeat what their PM said about Chancellor Berger. The Eastern Europeans are spoiling for a fight. The Finns, Norwegians, Swedes and Danes are understandably nervous. They rely heavily on close relations with the Franco-German axis for their prosperity. But they also feel a natural instinct to honor their NATO treaty obligations. I think they’re waiting to see what we do.”
“We?” Nielsen asked distantly.
“We, as in the United Kingdom.”
“Harold, if the French and the Germans and those other sycophant nations hanging onto their coattails do anything - I meananything - to impede the operations of our military forces…”
“You won’t have to do anything, Mr. Nielsen. We’re reasonably confident of our chances in a scrap with our old friends.” There was a distinct undertone of sarcasm in the way he enunciatedold friends .
“If you get involved in this, you know the French will probably issue a nuclear threat. Remember, it’s open season on nuclear combat right now.”
Nielsen heard a whispered exchange on the other end. Finally, Winterburn said, “My Chief of Defense Staff tells me that we shouldn’t be overly concerned about that. The nuclear equation between France and Britain is quite simple, you see. They may have marginally more firepower than us, but we know precisely where their missiles are, whereas our own nuclear capability is entirely based on Trident submarines. They wouldn’t find them even if our subs were floating like dog shit on the surface of the English Channel. We can be reasonably confident of using precision bombing to neutralize France’s nuclear capability. That’s the problem with our French cousins, you see. Arrogance. They can’t resist boasting about where they store their nuclear missiles.”
“We can provide all the logistical support you need,” Nielsen promised. He glanced at Westwood, who nodded to the affirmative. “Question is, could this be mere bluster, or have they really got the stomach for a fight?”
A brief pause. “Well, let’s find out, shall we? I can organize a conference call from here. That’ll shake them up.”
“Good idea. Let’s do it.”
A few moments later, the conference call was set up. Once initial pleasantries had been exchanged (even in the midst of nuclear war, some diplomatic protocols simply had to be adhered to), Nielsen got down to business. By unspoken consent, Winterburn remained largely silent throughout.
It took several seconds for the remark to be translated into French for the benefit of President Betin. Berger spoke English fluently. It was, however, the French leader who finally replied.
“This conflict is not our concern. NATO was not established merely to protect America’s interests. The world has moved on in the last twenty years.”
“As I understand it,” Nielsen pointed out, “the primary directive of NATO is to defend the interests ofall its member states. If one member is attacked, the others are compelled to assist. Or has something changed that I don’t know about?”
“Well, this is a rather unique situation,” Betin retorted. “The European Union is our primary strategic interest now. We are no longer America’s lackeys” - that remark was directed at Winterburn - “and we are not prepared to risk annihilation purely to ensure the continuation of the American way of life. You had the power to prevent an incident like this happening, but you chose to sit back and do nothing. The Cold War ended nearly two decades ago, and you’ve spent the intervening period sitting on your hands, reveling in your glory, smugly proclaiming your victory to the world. Well, that victory has come back to haunt you now, Mr. Nielsen. And I assure you that when the smoke clears, it will be the monolith of the European Union that rises from the ashes. America’s period of dominance is over.”
The heartfelt passion of Betin’s outburst lost something in the monotonic translation, but the meaning wasn’t lost on Nielsen. For a moment, he said nothing, reclining back into his chair, his face registering astonishment. It took him a few moments to digest the implicit threat in Betin’s words.
When he spoke again, however, the expression on his face had transformed into grim determination. “President Betin, I would advise you to think very,very carefully before making threats, be they explicit or implicit. You lead a nation that has failed abysmally to win any conflict of any kind that I can recall. If you’re looking to have your butts kicked again, then you’re going the right way about it.”