by Larry Bond
5 April 2017
1145 EST
White House Situation Room
Washington, D.C.
* * *
Frustration, exasperation, vexation … Patterson mentally ran down the list of synonyms for her feelings as she paced impatiently around the conference table. She just couldn’t comprehend how a national leader could be so blasé about something so serious. Did he just not get it? Lloyd was sympathetic, but his explanation earlier that morning did nothing to make her feel any better.
“President Handa is making a compromise, Joanna,” argued Lloyd. “We’ll brief him today, but it will be after sunset, his time, so he can complete most of his religious obligations. The fact that he’s agreed to listen to us at all today is a major concession.”
“Potentially a very costly one, Mr. Secretary. I’m quite certain Admiral Dhankhar has made very good use of the thirty hours this delay has cost us!”
* * *
Ten minutes before noon the secure VTC links between the three locations were synchronized and the audio and video channels checked. Patterson could see Olson, Samant, and Petrov on the left-hand screen. On the right-hand screen were the deputy chief of mission and the naval attaché. Ambassador Robert Eldridge had gone to greet President Handa at the embassy’s main entrance. The ambassador had warned Secretary Lloyd that the Indian president was irritated with the “ill-timed summons,” and that only the promised presence of President Myles at the meeting had convinced the Indian to cut short his holiday.
The Indians were still grateful to the Americans for clearing them as the source of the Kashmir explosion. The ambassador had used that to his advantage to convince the Indian leadership that they really needed to come to the U.S. embassy and listen to what those “same Americans” had to say. The kindest Indian reaction had been “This better be important.” Lloyd reassured Eldridge that the information the U.S. government was going to provide would be worth the diplomatic capital expended.
Patterson looked again at her notes. She knew the content by heart, but the flow of the briefing had been modified and she wanted to make sure she stayed on script. Myles had insisted that she present the information to the Indian president. A scientist, not a diplomat, had to be the messenger. The president also wanted to keep Petrov and Samant offscreen at first. Their presence had “shock value” for President Myles, and he wanted to use that shock to drive home their difficult message to Handa. It was critical that they apply the blow at the right time; thus, Samant and Petrov would not be brought on until after the evidence had been presented.
With five minutes to go, President Myles walked into the situation room and greeted his staff. He then dismissed everyone not participating in the VTC. Only four people would be in view during the virtual meeting. Myles didn’t want to overwhelm the Indian contingent by sheer force of numbers. A couple of minutes later, the naval attaché gestured to the screen and said, “Stand by.”
Myles signaled for everyone to stand. The secretaries of defense and state flanked the president, while Joanna stood offset behind Lloyd.
“Attention on deck!” sang out the navy captain.
Joanna watched as Eldridge appeared on the screen, followed by four Indians. Handa was tall for an Indian, and easily stood out from the rest of his countrymen. His face was weathered, with deep furrows on his forehead, and while he had most of his hair, it was snowy white and cropped short. The tightly clipped white goatee complemented his sharp facial features, giving him an air of authority. He carefully positioned himself in the center of the table and gave the traditional Indian greeting of “Namaste” with a slight bow. Joanna noticed the restrained frown and pursed lips. The man was not happy.
Myles reciprocated by putting the palms of his hands together, bowing, and repeating the word “Namaste.” Then, speaking carefully, he greeted the Indian head of state.
“President Handa, I very much appreciate your presence here this evening, and I regret having to take you away from your family during this special holiday. I know it is a considerable sacrifice on your part, but I would not insist on this video conference if the matter were not of the utmost urgency and importance.”
The Indian took a deep breath, pausing to keep his emotions in check. “President Myles, I must admit that I’m not in a particularly pleasant mood. The observance of the Festival of Ram Navami challenges us to focus our attention on our family—being together, fasting and praying, is vital to our future happiness and prosperity. And to break with those sacred activities prematurely is … most annoying.
“Ambassador Eldridge has been steadfast is his urgings that I come to the U.S. embassy to hear your concerns about this so-called nuclear crisis. I’m not accustomed to being summoned by a foreign government in my own country, nor do I appreciate being instructed as to whom can accompany me.”
Joanna fought hard not to wince; the Indian president had good reason to be upset. Both his deeply held religious beliefs and his pride had been badly bruised. She wondered just what Eldridge had said to the elder statesman.
“Mr. President, I completely understand your irritation, and it is I, not Ambassador Eldridge, you need to direct your anger toward. He was just following the strict orders I gave him. And it is I who owes you a most sincere apology for my actions. As for the ‘summons,’ it was unavoidable. The information we are prepared to give you is highly classified, and our nations’ secure communications systems are not compatible. In time we could have worked this out, but we do not have the luxury of time.
“Furthermore, as this information implicates that some senior Indian military officers are behind the conspiracy, I could only disclose it to the civilian leadership of the Republic of India.”
Myles paused briefly to let his last statement sink in. “President Handa, we Americans have a reputation, deservedly, for being excessively blunt. But I would much rather risk a diplomatic faux pas than allow significant pain and suffering to occur to a nation that I consider to be a friend.”
Handa nodded slightly, accepting Myles’s explanation for the highly inconvenient meeting. Pointing to the men with him, Handa made a quick introduction. “You know, of course, my Prime Minister, Shankar Pathak, and my Foreign Secretary, Gopan Jadeja.” Both men bowed their greetings.
“To the left of Foreign Secretary Jadeja is Mr. Vishnu Kumar, the Director of the Central Bureau of Investigation, the highest law enforcement agency in India. Given the vague reference to a potential ‘military conspiracy’ in Ambassador Eldridge’s messages, I thought it wise to include Mr. Kumar in the discussion. Now, please, tell us about this information that concerns you so deeply.”
Touché, Mr. President, thought Patterson, as she let out a sigh of relief. The thin smile on Handa’s face showed his tenseness had eased some. Myles, also smiling, quickly introduced Lloyd, Geisler, and Patterson, and then motioned for everyone to be seated. Joanna walked up to the podium, brought up her title slide, and formally introduced herself. She wasted no time in getting to the point.
“President Handa, it is typical in U.S. policy briefings to provide ‘the bottom line up front,’ followed by the supporting evidence. Therefore, I must ask for you and your compatriots’ indulgence. Our message is not a pleasant one.”
She hit the button to pull up the BLUF slide and spoke quickly; the fuse was now lit.
“We have multiple collaborating sources that indicate elements of the Indian Navy are planning to attack five of China’s largest ports with nuclear weapons similar to the one that exploded in Kashmir last month. The weapons are to be delivered by torpedoes launched from the Project 971U submarine, INS Chakra. We know the mastermind behind this planned attack is Vice Admiral Badu Singh Dhankhar, although it is likely other flag officers…”
That was as far as she got before the Indian officials at the U.S. embassy exploded in a cacophony of noise. They could not believe what they had just read and heard. It was impossible for Joanna to go on over the indignant shouting. What littl
e the Americans could pick out told them that the Indians not only refused to accept the idea, they were insulted at the very thought. Myles motioned for Joanna to stop; understandably, President Handa and the others were upset and needed to blow off some steam before she could go on.
In Hyderabad, Samant covered his eyes and groaned as he watched the turmoil unfold. The reaction was pretty much what he expected, but that didn’t make it any easier. He prayed that Handa and the others wouldn’t slam their minds shut to the evidence.
Petrov saw his friend’s pained reaction and spoke quietly. “I’ve known Joanna Patterson for over ten years now, and she can be very … direct. But, I’m alive today because of that directness. She knows what she’s doing, Girish.”
“I’ll take your word for it, Aleks,” Samant whispered. “I just hope President Handa doesn’t have a heart attack!”
The Indian president finally managed to rein in his subordinates and turned, seething, to the camera. “President Myles, this is an outrage! Admiral Dhankhar is a noble officer and is highly respected by my office and his colleagues! To levy such an accusation is unmitigated slander…”
Myles rose to his feet. He raised his voice. “Mr. President! Please let Dr. Patterson present the considerable evidence that supports it. You’ll see there is no possible alternative!”
Handa closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. He knew the American president was not the kind of man to shout at meetings. Struggling to control his anger, he slowly sat back down and said carefully, “Very well, proceed.”
“Dr. Patterson, please continue,” commanded Myles.
Joanna pulled up the next slide with a photo of a barge surfaced in ice-laden waters and started to describe the source of the nuclear weapons. She explained how she was part of a submarine mission that discovered the barge off the Russian island of Novaya Zemlya in June 2005, and of the subsequent recovery of two nuclear warheads for Soviet SS-21 intermediate-range ballistic missiles. It was the analysis of the nuclear material from these warheads that allowed the United States to claim with high confidence that the Kashmir explosion could not have come from an Indian weapon.
She then told them of their meeting with the Russian ambassador, where the United States admitted their less-than-legal activities and asked for their help in recovering the weapons. The Russians did so promptly, but reported that another six weapons had already been removed from the barge, and recently. The Russians also said that a disgraced admiral by the name of Kirichenko was undoubtedly the individual who knew about the barge’s location and likely recovered the weapons and had offered them on the black arms market. Kirichenko’s whereabouts had been unknown for years.
Her next slide showed a diagram highlighting the significant changes to Chakra’s refit. She emphasized the abruptly shortened time period and the change in focus that concentrated the work on sonar, fire control, and torpedo upgrades. The vast majority of the engineering-related repair items were suddenly deferred, repairs that India had already purchased expensive parts for. None of these changes made any sense; all had been approved by Dhankhar’s staff, and all occurred after the Kashmir explosion. Next came slide after slide of close-up, detailed photos taken on board Chakra and in the base workshops. She didn’t bother to point out the obvious that the photos came from secure areas within the naval shipyard at Visakhapatnam.
Petrov and Samant watched the Indians’ reactions closely. All were angry, but as the photographs of Chakra appeared, different officials showed confusion, disbelief, and surprise.
Patterson spent some time describing the modifications to the fire control, torpedo tubes, and torpedoes. “All this work was to be performed by a single Russian national, a Mr. Evgeni Orlav, who worked alone in an isolated workshop. And based on rumors from numerous Russian and Indian shipyard workers and supervisors, he reported directly, and only, to Admiral Dhankhar.
“The Russians later volunteered information that Orlav was a retired naval engineering officer who specialized in the care and maintenance of ballistic missile reentry vehicles—to include the ‘physics package.’ With the loss of one warhead to the LeT terrorists, who accidentally detonated it, the five remaining warheads were removed from their reentry vehicle casing and reassembled into five UGST-M torpedoes, two of which were visibly identified at the shop where Orlav did the majority of his work.” There were muted exclamations at the photographs of the torpedo shop interior and the torpedoes, as well as the ominous shape on the workbench.
One of her last slides showed the picture of the crumpled piece of paper with the list of Chinese ports. A total of ten were on that paper; all were major ports that supported China’s export economy, her petroleum infrastructure, and/or her financial markets. An accompanying table showed the historical throughput capacity of each of the ports in terms of standardized containers and barrels of oil. The numbers were staggering.
The last slide was summary recap. The targets were major Chinese ports; the weapons were rogue Russian nuclear weapons, placed in torpedoes by a Russian technician, and delivered by INS Chakra. The unexplainable changes in Chakra’s schedule refit were made immediately after the Kashmir explosion, and everything associated with the changes came from Vice Admiral Dhankhar’s office.
Joanna theorized that Dhankhar might have been motivated by the stagnation of the Indian offensive and the ongoing peace negotiations. She cited some of the admiral’s own public statements expressing his concern about the direct military aid Pakistan was receiving from China. She closed by warning that should Dhankhar successfully destroy several major Chinese ports, the retribution against India would be catastrophic. The plot was no longer a secret. Too many people in Russia and the United States now knew about it. It would be unwise to think that China wouldn’t eventually learn the truth.
Joanna turned off the screen feed and sat down. The situation room was absolutely silent. The Indians looked completely amazed. No one spoke for at least a minute. Finally, Myles rose. “There you have it, Mr. President. You’re now in possession of the same information that we’ve been working with. I trust you now understand why we had to have this meeting.”
Handa remained silent, running his right hand over his goatee. He was struggling with the revelation presented by Patterson. Myles then saw the director of the Central Bureau of Investigation lean over and whisper to the Indian president. The older man nodded, and Kumar faced the camera.
“President Myles, what you’ve shared with us is very disturbing. But I must ask, how did you get many of those photos? If I understand Dr. Patterson correctly, they could only have been taken within our shipyard at Visakhapatnam.”
“You’re correct, Mr. Kumar. They were provided to us by a confidential source.”
Kumar’s face visibly tightened; his voice became hard. “I see. So what you’re saying is that you have a spy in our shipyard!”
“No, sir,” Myles countered firmly. “The photos were provided by individuals who had already reached the same conclusions and sought outside help, not to hurt India, but to save her!”
“Very commendable, if true!” hissed Kumar.
Handa raised his hand, silencing the director. “President Myles, I accept that you believe this information to be factual, and that you have shared it out of a genuine concern for the well-being of India. And for that I thank you, and I also forgive you for demanding that we meet this evening.”
“But?” asked Myles.
“The information you’ve provided does seem to implicate Vice Admiral Dhankhar, but it is totally at odds with my personal experiences with the man. Yes, he’s been a critic of our peace negotiations with Pakistan, but he is a loyal and faithful officer who has followed orders in the past. He has done nothing that would cause me to distrust him.”
“I see. So you believe this information was manufactured? To possibly discredit Admiral Dhankhar?”
“Since I do not know who supplied you this information, I cannot rule out the possibility that it is a s
mear campaign to ruin Dhankhar’s excellent reputation,” Handa protested. “He has served me and my predecessors well, Mr. President.”
“What do I have to do to get you to believe us?”
Handa hesitated, considering Myles’s question. Kumar leaned over again and whispered to his president. Facing the camera, Handa said, “We’d need to have direct access to your sources.”
Joanna suppressed a smirk; President Myles had nailed it perfectly, and was ready to reel them in.
Without flinching, Myles exclaimed, “Done! Milt, please bring up the consulate in Hyderabad.”
The VTC screen suddenly cut in half with Petrov and Samant now visible on the left-hand side. Myles launched immediately into the introduction. “President Handa, may I present Captain First Rank Aleksey Igorevich Petrov, Russian Navy, retired, and now chief technical advisor to the Indian Navy on INS Chakra’s refit. And I believe you are already acquainted with Captain Girish Samant, the previous commanding officer of INS Chakra.”
The four Indians sat stunned; a single feather could have knocked all of them over. Upon seeing Samant, Handa began trembling, and his voice was unsteady, quavering; his tone sounded more like a plea than a question. “Cap … Captain Samant, is what the Americans have told us true?”
Samant wavered momentarily. He regretted the pain he was about to cause his nation’s leader, but the Indian captain had already made his decision. There was nothing left to do but carry on. “Yes, Mr. President, everything that Dr. Patterson has said is correct. It was Captain Petrov and I that discovered Dhankhar’s dark secret. Dr. Patterson helped to provide the missing pieces that enabled us to collectively put the entire puzzle together.”
Handa slumped back into his chair, his hands cradling his head. The prime minister and foreign secretary were equally dumbfounded and remained silent. Director Kumar recovered first and asked the only obvious question.