“Perhaps they’re standing down,” Suronev hoped aloud. He could sense that nobody actually believed that. He didn’t truly believe it himself, but that didn’t stop him hoping nonetheless.
Yazov pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to concentrate. He knew that America’s stealth bombers were equipped with the ability to disarm their bombs in the seconds following release. Maybe that was it. Maybe they had just wanted to push Russia to the wire, to see if she backed down. And Yazov hadn’t backed down, had he? So they had allowed disarmed nuclear bombs to fall onto Murmansk. It didn’t make much sense, but in his exhausted mind, it was as logical a concept as any.
“What is the next target to be hit?” He asked Kalushin.
The younger General checked his list. “Very likely to be Vladivostok in about four to five minutes.”
“And our submarines will be resurfacing for new orders in three,” Grizov reminded him. “We cannot afford to wait to see if Vladivostok is hit. If we don’t issue the launch orders to our submarines now, we may never get another chance.”
“So what?” Suronev barked. It was the first time he had openly opposed Grizov. “If their bombers hit us, our bombers will hit them. Nobody’s suggesting that we recall our bombers. They still carry enough firepower to destroy most of North America.”
“And they will also reach their targets in eight minutes,” Kalushin pointed out. “So if we want to stand down, the time to do so is now.”
“Okay,” Suronev sighed. “So what do we do?”
For once, Yazov didn’t have the answer.
ABOARD KNEECAP
“Okay,” the technician nodded. “Here goes.”
The screen flickered to live, and a cursor blinked as it awaited input. Of course, everybody knew the procedure for communicating with the Kremlin by now. Whether the Kremlin would be receptive to further communications was another matter entirely. Now that the American threat had been contained, Westwood understood that the fate of the world depended on the new Commander-in-Chief’s ability to convince Russia to stand down its own forces.
“You got the conference set up?” Bishop asked another technician.
“Yes, sir. Olney and Mount Weather are on line.”
“Put ‘em on speaker,” Reynolds ordered.
“Yessir.”
FEMA SPECIAL FACILITY, OLNEY, MARYLAND
The tension had subsided somewhat following confirmation of Nielsen’s arrest. But there was no sense of triumph. There were still some harsh realities to face. Firstly, how to prevent the Russians from proceeding with their own attack. Secondly, how to rebuild a seriously wounded America.
Well, Lewis thought, one thing at a time. He looked around him. Although the moans and screams of human misery could still be heard from the corridors outside, his compatriots seemed to be much more relaxed than they had been. It wasn’t that they were at ease with their predicament; just that they had adjusted to it. That was a concept with which Lewis was acutely familiar. He recognized it as a basic human survival trait; the ability to adapt to radically changed circumstances and environment. Perhaps, he mused, he ought to become a psychologist once this was all over. Wouldn’t Jo just love that? Two physicians in the family.
Given the lack of a computer link at either Olney or Mount Weather, communications with Moscow would be handled verbally. The new Commander-in-Chief, George Halligan, would relate his messages to KNEECAP, where they would be entered into the computer terminal. Conversely, somebody aboard KNEECAP would read Yazov’s responses aloud. Lewis and Margaret would listen in and offer advice, should any be required.
But with every passing moment, Lewis became increasingly aware of another looming deadline.
Except that this time, it wouldn’t be Murmansk that was destroyed.
In eight minutes’ time, it would be San Francisco.
UNDERGROUND COMMAND POST, THE KREMLIN
The sudden appearance of a military aide caused everybody to look up.
“General Yazov. We have incoming traffic from America.”
Yazov raised his eyebrows. Suddenly, he felt a tinge of optimism. So, the Americans were willing to talk again. “From Nielsen?”
The aide shook his head. “No, sir. I think you’d better come and see for yourself.”
Grizov touched Yazov’s arm. “General, it’s a trick. A diversionary tactic. They want to confuse you into aborting the launch.”
As he stood, Yazov shrugged off the FSB chief’s hand. “I’m going to take the message. You stay here and keep an eye on things.” When he reached the door, he stopped and turned. “Incidentally, Alexander. I’m surprised you think I can be so easily confused. How terribly naïve of you.”
Kalushin and Suronev followed Yazov into the computer room. Those who remained in the war room shared a light chuckle at Grizov’s expense.
To whoever is in charge of Russia --- This is George Halligan, Speaker of the House of Representatives and acting Commander-in-Chief of the armed forces of the United States of America. Before we proceed, may we establish with whom we are dealing?
Yazov failed to prevent a smile flickering across his lips as he read the message. If the Americans were being honest, then Paul Nielsen was no longer the man with whom to reckon. Certainly, the tone seemed conciliatory. It had come as something as a shock to Suronev. That much was obvious by his uncharacteristic silence.
ABOARD KNEECAP
“Here it comes,” the technician announced as characters began appearing sequentially on the monitor. Even he couldn’t hide his enthusiasm. “They’re talking to us, gentlemen. They’re talking.”
Westwood read the message aloud as soon as it had appeared in its entirety.
Mr. Halligan --- You are dealing with General Gennady Yazov, President of the Russian Federation. As you may expect, we have a number of questions for you:
1.Where is Paul Nielsen, and why is he not involved in this dialogue?
2.Are American forces proceeding with their attack against our nation?
3.Have launch orders been issued to your submarines?
As you well know, our own forces are continuing to advance on your nation in lieu of evidence that American strategic forces have been recalled. Accordingly, I urge you to respond quickly in order that we may take appropriate action before it is too late.
FEMA SPECIAL FACILITY, OLNEY, MARYLAND
Lewis clenched a fist in triumph. “They’ve given us an opening, Mr. Speaker,” he remarked as soon as Westwood had finished relating Yazov’s message. “Yazov is tired and weary of this whole thing. He just wants it to be over. The key to that is in the last sentence. He’s asking us to give him a guarantee that we’ve stood down our forces. Appropriate actioncan only mean that he’s willing to stand down his own forces if we reply positively.”
Margaret nodded her agreement. “I read it exactly the same way,” she said.
“I’m not so sure,” remarked Bishop from KNEECAP. “I was just wondering whether they would be so trusting.”
“What do you mean?” Halligan asked. Like President Mitchell, diplomacy wasn’t his forte. His political career had been built mainly on agricultural and industrial issues. That was largely due to the rural constituency that he represented.
“I mean,” the DCI explained, “that there appears to be some contradiction here. His second question suggests that either they’ve lost the radar capability to detect our bombers, or if they haven’t, he’s just testing us to see if we’re telling the truth. The penultimate sentence may or may not be an implicit threat.”
“It’s a statement of fact, Tony,” Margaret protested. “They know that we know their bombers are advancing.”
“Then why remind us?” Halligan stated. “If not to threaten us.”
“Okay,” Lewis said sourly. “What about the last sentence, Tony? What’s the ulterior motive in that?”
“We-ll,” the DCI began thoughtfully, drawing out the word. “When you juxtapose that sentence against the penultimate senten
ce and the second question, it’s rendered quite irrelevant.”
Lewis was tired of all this paranoia. That was what had created this mess. He allowed his irritation to show. “Then why does he ask us to respond quickly?” he snapped. “If he intended to hit us anyway, he wouldn’t be asking.”
“Unless he doesn’t know that we’ve already stood down,” Margaret thought aloud. She looked up apologetically at Lewis. “I think I see where Tony is coming from.”
Lewis rubbed his eyes as he spoke. They felt leaden with fatigue. “The simple fact is,” he sighed, “that wehave stood down our forces. All we have to do is tell them that, and we can end this whole thing right now. If we decline to tell them, they’ll assume that we haven’t stood down, and they’ll blow us to Kingdom come anyway.”
Halligan took a few moments to ponder the arguments he’d heard. Then he verbalized his response, which was entered by the operator aboard KNEECAP.
UNDERGROUND COMMAND POST, THE KREMLIN
General Yazov --- In reply to your questions:
1.Paul Nielsen has been relieved of command and detained under charge of treason and unlawful exercise of his powers. I am quite willing to provide further details should you so wish.
2.My first act as Commander-in-Chief was to recall all American strategic nuclear bombers. This order has been authenticated and effected. If you have radar capability, you will be able to confirm that our bombers have turned.
3.We have not issued launch orders to our submarines, but they have been ordered to maintain combat alert status.
I can personally guarantee that your nation will sustain no further damage at the hands of our forces. The above actions have been taken unilaterally in the interests of world peace. I now request that you take similar measures to stand down your own strategic forces. This entire conflict has been a terrible, costly mistake. We have no quarrel with Russia or the Russian people. I believe the time has now come for us to work together to rebuild what remains of our two great nations.
Yazov had to read the message twice to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood it. He felt every muscle in his body loosen as the tension drained from him. Although his training had conditioned him to treat any American’s word with skepticism, he was desperate enough to clutch at any grain of hope offered him.
“What are they up to?” Kalushin wondered aloud. “It surely cannot be that easy.”
Yazov laughed tiredly. “For once, old friend, I think that they are not up to anything. They don’t want this war any more than we do. They never did.” His placed his hands on Kalushin’s shoulders. His eyes were dancing with glee. “I think that our world has been given another chance.”
“So you intend to stand down our forces on the basis of an American’s word,” Suronev stated sourly. It was less of a question than a conclusion.
The Russian President stretched his tired limbs. “Mikhail Olegovich,” he sighed. “We have to start trusting each other one day. Today is as good a day as any, don’t you think?”
Suronev had no reply to that.
ABOARD KNEECAP
Mr. Halligan --- With respect to your gracious offer, I am pleased to inform you that I have issued urgent orders to our strategic forces to cease all hostilities while maintaining alert status. I suggest that we establish lines of communication between officials in both our nations to discuss the logistics of a bilateral reduction of alert levels to peacetime status at the earliest opportunity.
Enough people have died on this awful day. Perhaps we might learn something from this. Perhaps we might learn that we are children in the possession of terrible weapons whose destructive potential exceeds our worst nightmares. Perhaps we cannot be trusted with those weapons. And I hope there is a chance that the millions of our countrymen who have died will not have done so in vain. If we can supplant the politics of suspicion with an ethos of trust, our world may prosper and survive for many thousands of generations.
“Jesus,” Reynolds quipped, for once lost for words. “Is this guy relieved or what? Sounds like he’s been smoking a Woodstock special.”
Westwood wrapped an arm around Bishop. Nobody in the room had ever seen such a terrific beam as that on the General’s face. “Who cares, Jim?” he enthused. “We’re alive.”
FEMA SPECIAL FACILITY, OLNEY, MARYLAND
Lewis allowed the fatigue to sweep over him. For the first time since the onset of the crisis, he realized just how exhausted he was. The situation still had a somewhat surreal quality, and he knew that the triumphant smiles would last only until the reality of a devastated America had to be faced. But, for a solitary moment, he allowed himself to wallow in the glory of a world reprieved.
Margaret caught him off guard when she embraced him. Jefferson and McGuire immediately joined in, forming a four-way group hug. Then Beakman, Jago and Herbert made seven. Lewis suddenly felt uncomfortable sharing in all this jubilation, knowing that so many people were suffering outside the room. But it could have been many more, he kept telling himself.Many more…
“You did it, pal,” Jefferson enthused in Lewis’s ear. “You pulled it off.”
“I had a good teacher,” he said, grinning at Margaret.
“Oh shucks,” she grinned modestly. Despite her apparent good cheer, Lewis sensed a shadow of anxiety creeping into her eyes as her thoughts turned to a husband whose chances of survival were by no means assured. And, no doubt, to a world whose chances of recovery were not much better.
Lewis struggled to find the right words to reassure her without sounding condescending. He managed a tight-lipped smile. “Ma’am, if anybody can save the President, Jo can. She’s one of the best at what she does.”
“I know,” Margaret nodded, attempting a brave smile. “Doesn’t stop me worrying though. I don’t know what I’ll do without him.”
She wiped a tear from her eyes with the back of her hand. Lewis couldn’t tell whether it was a tear of joy or grief. He suspected the latter. “Come on,” he whispered reassuringly. “Let’s go back to the medical wing, see how he’s doing. He might be recovering by now.”
As they were about to leave the room, they were stopped by a voice from KNEECAP. It belonged to Westwood. “Hold on, folks. We’ve got another incoming message.”
UNDERGROUND COMMAND POST, THE KREMLIN
After issuing the recall order, Yazov requested that he be left alone in the computer room to type a very private message to his American counterpart. Following the initial wave of euphoric relief, it had not gone unnoticed that he was becoming rapidly more dejected as the enormity of what had happened struck him.
After some persuasion, Kalushin had reluctantly acquiesced to his friend’s wish to be left alone. He ambled out of the computer room, quietly shutting the door behind him.
Yazov, breathing heavily and fighting against the tears that had begun to streak his face, began to type in English.
ABOARD KNEECAP
To all in America who might be reading this note --- I write now, not as a national leader and not as a military officer. I write to you as an ordinary man. A man who was arrogant enough to think he knew better than those he served. A man whose arrogance has cost the lives of so many millions of innocent Americans and Russians. I stand condemned for my arrogance. I stand guilty of genocide.
The American and Russian people deserve much better than to be patronized by my worthless apologies. But I offer them anyway. There is no explanation or justification for the crimes that I have committed. Now it is for God to judge my actions and for others to repair the damage I have caused.
Russia deserves to be led by a better man than myself. I hope that my good friend and colleague General Anatoly Kalushin will succeed me. He has the strength, the will and the intelligence to lead this nation through its darkest hour. Russia has survived hard times throughout its history. Under his leadership, I am sure that it will do so again.
Until today, I had never believed in God. But, as I face my judgment, I am learning to believe. I truly a
m. I face my final moments in the hope that mankind will learn something from the terrible events that have transpired today. May future national leaders learn from my mistakes and may they not repeat them. I do not seek understanding or forgiveness, for I am not worthy of such sentiments. I merely seek deliverance. Perhaps I will find this in my next life.
With profound remorse,
General Gennady Andreiovich Yazov
“Jesus,” Bishop exclaimed. “It sounds almost like a…”
Margaret’s voice interrupted him. She had obviously just reached the same conclusion.
“Oh my God!”
UNDERGROUND COMMAND POST, THE KREMLIN
All chatter in the conference room was brought to an abrupt halt by a suddencrack . Kalushin spun around in the direction of the noise, but he instinctively knew what it was.
He ran to the computer room, Suronev and Grizov close behind him. When he opened the door, he was confronted by a sight that caused a wave of nausea to sweep over him.
Yazov was still seated at the computer console, facing away from the monitor. But the upper half of his head was missing; most of its contents sliding down the computer screen and the gray wall behind it. His limp right hand held a revolver, whose barrel was still emitting thin plumes of smoke.
Fighting back the urge to vomit, Kalushin ran over to his late, dear friend and collapsed at his feet, sobbing hysterically and screaming unintelligible pleas.
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