“They were helping Khan attack us?” Luke asked, his head spinning.
“Khan was what we thought. Part of some splinter group.” Morrissey shifted his weight, obviously debating with himself whether he was saying too much. “We think this entire thing started when the Chief Executive of Pakistan addressed the UN General Assembly in New York. He told them Pakistan was prepared to sign a no-war pact with India, that they were ready for mutual reduction of forces, ready to agree to a nuclear-free South Asia, and ready to talk to India anytime, anywhere, at any level. Khan and his people saw that they were doomed unless they acted quickly, and dramatically, not only against India but to get rid of a Pakistani government that would utter such heresy.
“Khan thought he had an inside guy. A guy I understand who went by the false name of Shirish. He thought he was using Indian intelligence to kill the current Pakistani regime. But Shirish was one of Sunil’s agents, an Islamic Indian, I’m told. He convinced Khan they could help him, even to attack the Indian nuclear plant. He promised to alert Khan if anyone was suspicious of an attack and warn him of preparations. If there were no suspicions, Khan would succeed in his attack and certainly start a war between Pakistan and India. There were already hundreds of men strategically placed by Khan’s group in Kashmir—dressed as both Indian and Pakistani belligerents—to fight in both directions so each side could claim the other started it. They know that the next time there’s fighting over Kashmir, it won’t stop.” He studied their shocked faces. “President Clinton didn’t call Kashmir the most dangerous place on the planet for nothing.”
“And it was all a trap?”
“Sunil lured Khan into a very deep trap. He used him to disgrace Pakistan and—you’ve seen what the President of India is saying—avoided the very war that was inevitable if Khan succeeded. Pakistan has lost its credibility for fifty years. He made sure you were waiting for Khan when he came. He took out perhaps the greatest threat to peace in the region. They were prepared to defend their nuclear plant on their own, but when Vlad offered to help—passed on to India by the Russian intelligence people—Sunil must have laughed out loud. Perfect symmetry. Use an American and a Russian to stop the Pakistani. He didn’t even have to risk an Indian pilot.”
Luke sat down and put his head back. The others in the room simply stared at Morrissey, who continued, “But there’s one thing I need to know.”
Luke didn’t know what to say. His mind was spinning. “What?”
“Did this Vladimir Petkov try to do you harm in India? Did he try to prevent you from stopping Khan?’
Luke shook his head. “No. He kept me from getting killed. Why?”
“We had developed information that he was controlled by the Russian Mafia. And they were tied in with Khan somehow. It’s probably lucky for him that he died over there. If he hadn’t, I’ve got a feeling he’d be on somebody’s shit list.”
Luke continued shaking his head. “I can’t believe it.”
Morrissey put his hands in his pockets. “So here’s the wet-blanket part. Nobody else would believe it either. That’s why we can’t go public with it. If we did, we’d look completely foolish. You’d look like a dupe, and nobody would buy it. You don’t even buy it,” he said, looking around the room. “India is the big winner. They get to say Pakistan is full of nuts who attacked the United States and then India. They’ll say that what happened to the U.S. is terrible, and it almost happened to them, but fortunately, thanks to their skilled Air Force, they were able to defeat the attack by the Pakistani Air Force on their nuclear power plant. They’ll rub Pakistan’s nose in this for decades. And Pakistan had nothing to do with it.
“As for us, the wind stalled and saved our population centers. But the Southern California coast is ruined for several lifetimes. All because we couldn’t get our act together about nuclear-waste storage.”
Brian was stunned. “How sure are you of all this?”
“In this business you deal in degrees. But I’m pretty sure. Your brother’s pretty sure.” Morrissey looked around. “I normally wouldn’t tell a group like this all of that. But I know that each one of you has held a top-secret clearance in the past—except Katherine. I’m asking all of you to keep this to yourselves. We can’t handle a public discussion of this, and if I didn’t tell you what was behind it all, you wouldn’t have listened to me; somebody here would have talked to the press, to proclaim your greatness and your role in restoring world peace. Hell, I would have if it were me. But you can’t. “
Brian replied, “I didn’t know India’s intelligence operations were that . . . I don’t know . . . sophisticated.”
Morrissey smiled ironically. He hesitated. “Well, it’s been changing.”
“How?”
He scanned the room. “In the summer of 2000, the head of Mossad and General Security Services of Israel went to New Delhi.” He let that thought sink in. “The Indians turned to Israel to help them combat Pakistan’s border incursions and terrorism. In exchange, they agreed to share nuclear information with Israel.”
“The Mossad?” Luke asked, incredulous.
Morrissey nodded. “I’m afraid the Indians were good students.” He reached into his briefcase pulled out a stack of papers, and started passing them around. Those in the room began to read as soon as each got one of the sheets. “What you have in front of you is a nondisclosure agreement. If you sign it, you agree to keep everything you know about the Indian operation to yourselves forever. You can never speak about it, or write about it, or even hypothesize about it, without the prior written consent of the United States government.” A couple of the pilots put the documents on the seats beside them.
“Why should we sign this?” Luke asked, still reeling.
“Because if you don’t, I’m afraid Ms. Li has been instructed to conduct an extensive investigation into this school and its operations, beginning this afternoon. It would require the school to be closed for at least three months, and if she finds anything out of the ordinary, the MiGs will be confiscated and the school will be closed permanently. But if you sign, you are free to return to full operation. Immediately.”
Luke stood up and looked at the other officers, then at Morrissey. “We risk our lives, and all we get from you is a threat to close us down? You promised!”
“And my promise is still good. If you sign.”
“I’m not signing,” Crumb said. “Stick, how many did you get in India?”
“Two.”
“Hell. We’ve got to be able to paint them on the wall at the O’ Club! And Thud’s kills? We’ve got to be able to put it up.”
“What do you want us to do?” Brian asked. “It’s your school.”
Luke looked at Katherine. He looked around the ready room and the school they had built.
“Sign it,” Dr. Thurmond bellowed from the back of the room.
Helen stood and walked to the front. She looked at Luke and nodded slowly, telling him to sign.
“I’m not exactly eager to tell the world we got duped by an Indian intelligence puke who got us to fight his fight for him. Let’s do this,” Luke said, pulling a pen out of the shoulder pocket of his flight suit.
The rest of the officers went along. Morrissey collected the papers and deposited them in his briefcase. “Thank you. There are a lot of things yet to be done,” he remarked as he put on his suit coat. “But your work is done. We appreciate it.”
Luke smiled. “Sure,” he said, tired of Morrissey, and the government, and the world of intelligence and all it stood for.
Morrissey walked out of the room with Helen and Lane and the others.
The rest of the room watched as Dr. Thurmond stood and came up to the front. He turned and looked at them, then spoke. “When Luke came to see me about starting this school, I warned him. I told him that when your existence is dependent on the government, you are at risk. But even I didn’t have in mind that foreign governments would target us. They have. And we got had. But frankly, I am proud of the
way this school responded. I wish Quentin were here to talk with us about it. I am so proud of him . . .” He fought the emotion that charged into his consciousness. “Thud would have wanted this school to go on. It’s the first thing he has ever wanted on his own. But you need some leadership. You need someone who can push back when the government pushes. I want to be a part of this school. Luke,” he said, “I think it’s time I took over as CEO. You be the chief instructor, I’ll run the day-to-day operations. Okay with you?”
“Sounds good to me,” Luke responded.
“And we should rename the O’ Club after Thud,” Crumb said loudly as he stood. “Thud Alley.”
The others nodded.
“Let’s go over to the O’ Club now,” Thurmond insisted. “Enough of this.”
Luke pulled out a videotape and tossed it to Crumb. “You wanted to see it?” he asked.
Crumb caught the tape and stared at Luke. “What’s this?”
“Khan.”
“You’ve got Khan’s shoot-down on tape?”
“Gun-camera film,” Luke replied. “Splice it into the O’ Club tape.”
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank Rob Young at the National Air Intelligence Center at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base for showing me the MiG-29s the United States bought from Moldova. I would also like to thank the Navy Strike and Air Warfare Center in Fallon, Nevada, and TOPGUN in particular, for their kind hospitality. Commander Bill Sizemore of TOPGUN and the other officers there were extremely helpful. I took some license with things at TOPGUN, such as ignoring the contract each TOPGUN instructor signs, promising not to get out of the Navy. I am hopeful they will not hold it against me.
I am grateful to my friend Don Chartrand for his support and suggestions and his shared interest in the problem of nuclear waste.
Mark Juergensen was a great help to me in understanding nuclear fallout and radiation exposure.
I want to thank my editor, Henry Ferris, for his guidance and insight. He made this a better book.
I also want to express my deep appreciation to my agent, David Gernert, for his continued support and wisdom.
Lastly, I want to thank my wife, Dianna, and my children for putting up with my long hours and for giving me their undying support and love.
James W. Huston
San Diego, California
About the Author
James W. Huston is a graduate of Top Gun and the University of Virginia School of Law and is the author of the bestselling thriller Balance of Power. He lives in San Diego, California.
Credits
Jacket design by Richard Quan
Jacket photo by paul Almasy at Corbis/Bettman
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